Freak
by lydiathedinosaur
Summary: Katherine Jane Welsh prefers to have a cigarette in the morning instead of toast, booze instead of water, and drugs instead of homework. She would also prefer to have an alarm clock wake her up instead of her drunken parents. But we can't always get what we want, can we?
1. Prologue

**Disclaimer: I do not own Freaks and Geeks or any of it's characters! I only own my OC, Katherine Jane Welsh and her family. **

**McKinley High School**

**Michigan**

**1980**

Katherine Jane Welsh was a freak. She was a burnout, an abortion, and a weirdo. There were three tracks in High School, as Daniel explained it. 'Track one', 'track two' and 'track three'. 'Track one' was the smart kids, 'track two' was the normal kids, and 'track three' was the dumb kids. Katherine was clearing 'track three' long before she entered high school. As if that wasn't enough, McKinley High had seemingly divided itself into social groups; the jocks, geeks, freaks, Goths, Hispanics and blacks. In her dichotomized school, there was only one haven - the patio. She could smoke to her heart's delight, and no one would bother her or give her cruel glances. Her only friends – Daniel, Nick, Kim and Ken – were like bright patches of light in pitch-black darkness. They held her up by tiny thin strings that were too close to snapping. They were constant support beams that never seamed to crumble.

When she needed to throw up in class, Daniel was there for her. When she got too drunk at a party, Kim was there for her. When she got so high she couldn't stand up, Nick was there for her. When she felt like slitting her wrists, Ken was there for her.

Katherine was a ticking time bomb that her friends seemed to keep diffusing. But for some reason, something kept lighting the match.


	2. Chapter 1 - Pilot

**'Pilot'**

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"Hey Welsh, you got gum?" Kim stopped me in the hallway in between class.

I swallowed and bobbed my head up and down, reaching into my saddle bag to grab a piece of mint for her. It had been a bad day for me. My mother had woken me up drunk this morning, and I had to hitchhike to school since Daniel was still in the process of fixing his car. I had known him and Kim since they were little – and although I was an awkward third wheel at first, we learned how to balance our relationships. "Yeah, here."

"Thanks." Kim took the gum and shoved it between her lips. "Ugh. It's mint."

"Sorry." I made a face and approached my locker. "It's the only kind I have."

"Alright, whatever. I'll see you after school, yeah?"

I nodded and watched her walk away down the corridor. Sometimes I felt like gum was Kim Kelly's alcohol. And it was a strange feeling that I was feeding it to her.

I grabbed my books for second period, English, and heaved a sigh. I dreaded school – I wasn't cut out for it, and I really couldn't stand being told what to do. I wanted freedom, not another book to finish by next week. The only plus side to school was that Daniel happened to be in a large amount of my classes. When he wasn't running around with Kim being a bad boy, he was a sweet guy who cared for the well being of his friends. I was honored to have him as one of my companions.

But of course, I wasn't going to have a nice, calm second period. No, something was bound to happen, and halfway through Ms. Dwyer's reading of _Othello_, I began to feel my throat tightening. My neck craned, and I gagged silently. Daniel noticed and turned sideways in his seat, motioning to the garbage can. I stared back at him for a couple seconds, gagging like a sick cat with my eyes as wide as saucer plates, and then rushed to the garbage in the corner of the room. Daniel was right on my heels, and Ms. Dwyer stopped her reading to sigh impatiently.

"Mr. Desario, please escort Ms. Welsh to the nurses office, again."

We left the English classroom as quickly as possible, and I was still gagging as we tried to make it to the washroom. I would never go near the nurse's office, and Daniel didn't care to be in the girls washroom, so each time a teacher sent us out when I felt sick, we would go the bathroom. I had a chronic vomiting problem, as my anxiety rose when I was in school and I constantly fell victim to my stomach's dances of torture.

"Shit." I gagged again as I felt the bile rising in my throat. I veered right towards a trashcan and hurled into it. Daniel tugged my hair back, reassuring me. I could already feel the sting of the stomach acid in my windpipe. Then the horrible nausea came again, and I retched. By this time my gullet was raw.

"Done?" Daniel stopped rubbing my back and let go of my hair as I nodded.

We made our way towards the bathroom, where I splashed my face with cold water and drank from the tap. My esophagus felt like it was on fire, even with the chilled water.

"I need a cigarette." I muttered and tugged my sleeves down further over my arms. My vomiting had gotten out of hand recently. I didn't know why – even if I was around my friends a majority of the time, educational facilities made me very uneasy. This was when most of the puking occurred.

I searched my black saddlebag for a Marlboro, but found nothing. Cursing, I realized that I had forgotten my pack today. Either that or my Rick, my mother's boyfriend, had stolen them.

"Shit." I groaned. "I'm out of cigarettes."

Daniel sighed and reached into his back pocket, giving me one. My hand shot up for the long white stick, but he pulled it back. "Race you to the patio."

"Daniel!" I whined, but he was already out the door of the lavatory. "Come on, I just threw up." I grumbled and lazily jogged after him. The bell rang just as I made it onto the patio.

* * *

I sighed and tried to focus on the beat of Nick's drumsticks on his thighs, whilst ignoring Ken's faulty attempts to hit on Isla Swartz by slapping her in the ass with an elastic band.

"I'm sorry!" He called out as she turned in disgust. "Your butt was calling to me."

I scoffed and shook my head in mock embarrassment. "I'm ashamed to even be seen with you guys."

"Hey, you love us Welsh." Nick gave me a sloppy grin. I shook my head again, and then focused my eyes on a now advancing Daniel.

"You guys know Lindsay?" He introduced a plain looking girl with an oversized army jacket.

"Hi." She waved meekly.

"Oh hey, you were in my English class last year. You're the chick who got an A." Nick pointed at Lindsay with his drumstick.

"Yeah, well what are you gonna do?"

_Hm. A straight-A turned dropout. This could get interesting_.

"I dunno," Ken's blank stare took Lindsay off guard. "What are you gonna do?"

"Hey Desario," I spoke up, reaching out my hand. "You owe me a smoke."

He sighed and handed the cancer stick over. I smiled as I lit up, happily breathing out the smoke through my nose. Lindsay regarded me with weary eyes, and I smiled in reassurance that I was no threat. She seemed to understand.

"So, are you guys going to the homecoming dance?" Lindsay asked. It looked like she was desperate to make conversation in an area that she hadn't redeemed herself in yet.

"I beg your pardon?"

"That's funny. That's a joke, right?"

I stayed quiet and smoked my cigarette. The only chance that I would have of going to that dance was if someone paid me. Besides, no one was interested in a scrawny little thing like me. I tuned out of the rest of the conversation, not wanting to hear about these stupid little social situations anymore. I was already nauseous enough at school as it was. My thoughts drifted to my mother, and how drunken she had been when she woke me up at 6 am this morning. Her stupid boyfriend kept supplying all of her alcohol, and it was getting to the point where I was sure one morning I would wake up and find her passed out for good. I was beginning to look forward to that day.

I was shaken out of my thoughts when Nick and Daniel's tiny scuffle nearly shook my cigarette out of my hands.

"Hey! Watch it!" I scuffed Nick atop the head and blew my smoke in Daniel's direction. "What are you, five years old?"

Lindsay laughed at the tiny ruckus, until Nick noticed Millie standing at the entrance to the patio. "Hey, check it out." He noted. "What does she want?"

Lindsay walked over to Millie and uttered words that I couldn't hear. It seemed like she was telling the other girl to leave, because Millie left after a couple of minutes, and we continued on with our normal conversation.

* * *

"Hey, chemistry exam you ordered?" Ken neared us again with a folded sheet of paper in his hand.

"Alright." Daniel smiled and took the paper from him, but frowned as he realized the pages were blank. "Where are the answers?"

"You just said to steal the test…" Ken's face was bank.

"Well good work, genius." Daniel spat and play-smacked Ken. "Way to use your brain."

"What?" Ken whined. I patted his arm as Daniel scoffed in frustration. I felt sympathy for him – I knew what it was like to walk into a classroom and know that you were going to fail the test, no matter how hard you tried. It was a sickening feeling in the pit of your stomach that just kept growing and growing, and it didn't stop until you finally had handed in your papers and walked out of the classroom. Granted, I got better grades than most of my friends – besides Lindsay (who was yet to be considered a friend) – but I knew for a fact that Daniel and his report card were not on good terms whatsoever.

"I'm cutting. Who's got gum?" Kim approached our group.

The new attachment, Lindsay, started looking through her bag. I rolled my eyes. I couldn't believe how many pieces of gum Kim went through a day. Ken shook his head at Kim's seemingly tiny addiction and offered her a weird looking piece of gum. Kim shot a strange insult at him.

"Hey Kim," Lindsay got her attention. "I got some."

My friend whipped around and glared at her, then Daniel. "What's she doing here?"

"She's our friend." He gave her a classic Daniel smile. I grimaced. Wrong answer.

"What?" Kim teased. "Are you _doing_ her so that she'll help you with your math homework?"

"Hey. Lay off." Daniel suppressed.

"Hey, Kim, I-"

"I wasn't talking to you, brain. Don't you have a test to take or something?" Kim interrupted Lindsay.

"Hey, would you be cool? Please?" Nick stepped out from behind Lindsay to defend her, finally. Lindsay looked confused and insulted.

"Did I do something to you?" She asked my blonde friend.

"You're here." Kim deadpanned.

"Well I have as much right to be here as you do." Lindsay fired back, and I could sense things were getting tense.

"Hey brain, I shoplift in your daddy's store. You're just some rich kid whose trying to piss off her parents. You think you can hang with these guys? You think that's gonna make you cool?" Kim started to advance on Lindsay.

"I don't know what to tell you."

"You know what, I'm sorry. Let's be friends." Kim gave Lindsay a fake smile, and then proceeded to dump her bag out onto the floor.

"Hey!" I reached out and tried to stop her midway, but I was too late. The contents of Lindsay's bag were spilling onto the green and red-checkered hallway.

"There. Now we're friends. See you at the mall."

"What are you, on your period?" Daniel asked, arms spread wide as he began to lean down and help Lindsay collect her things.

"Hey, if you wanna hang with your little poser friend and pretend with her, than that's your waste of time, just keep her the hell away from me." Kim stormed off, and I nearly took off after her before decided to help Lindsay first.

"I'm sorry about her." I made a face. "I know for a fact that she's on her period. PMS can be a huge bitch."

"It's okay." Lindsay muttered and thanked me for helping her. I nodded, and then rose as the bell rang.

"I've gotta get to class. I'm failing algebra and I don't want Mr. Kowcheski to scream in my face again." Nick made a similar excuse, and we headed down the hallway together.

"Hey, were you okay at lunch? All you had was a cigarette." Nick turned to me, a frown marring his face.

I nodded and smiled. My throat still hurt – the cigarette hadn't really helped with anything except for calming my poor nerves. "I'm fine." I responded to him, even though I knew – and I was pretty sure that all my friends did, too – that I was far from fine.


	3. Chapter 2 - Beers and Weirs

**'Beers and Weirs'**

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"KATHERINE JANE WELSH!"

I didn't think that rising out of bed as quickly as I did that morning was possible. This excessive yelling could only mean one thing; my mother was drunk again. Which meant that her boyfriend would be there too, also intoxicated and ready to chuck me out of our front door that was barely hanging off the hinges. Our house wasn't exactly a dump – it was just a five room broken down shack in a bad part of town that was in desperate need of refurbishing. All right – perhaps one could refer to it as a 'dump'. At least my bed was clean.

I heard my name yelled yet again and sighed, beginning my normal morning process. I tried to ignore my mother's excessive yelling while pulling on clothing, but it was hard when she kept tripping over things in the kitchen and making a ruckus. I wearily exited my room with my bag in tow, hoping to get to at least grab a piece of toast before I had to bolt to Daniel's car. He was nice about rides – always picking Kim and I up on Friday mornings.

I thought that I was in the clear after I toasted one piece of bread, but I nearly jumped a foot in the air when I heard a slam behind me. It was my stepfather, Rick, and he was by no means passed out. He looked livid. He had a bottle of unfinished Gin in his right hand, and his left hand was pointed at me across the table. My bleary eyes widened. I had gotten past the point of fighting my 'parents' a long time ago – now it was all about avoiding them. The first time I had tried to resist Rick I had gotten a black eye and a broken wrist. The second time I almost got a concussion. Time after time I had tried to rebel, only to result in more injuries. Sometimes I wished that my 'parents' were more like Kim's – and that was saying something. Bringing myself back to the situation at hand, I was glad to see that Rick wasn't stable enough to jump across the table to get me – instead he tried to circle around quickly in his drunken state, something that clearly wasn't easily accomplishable. I managed to get out the front door without a scratch, sprinting as fast as I could towards Daniel's gaudy orange car.

"Come b-back here!" Rick stumbled out the front door after me, the bottle still in his hand although by now it was empty.

I avoided his hands and ran to the other side of the car, jumping in and slamming the door shut. Daniel took off as soon as I was in safely.

"Jesus." Kim glanced back at my house as we pulled away in a hurry. "Your stepdad's just as bad as mine."

"He's not my stepdad." I growled through clenched teeth, and laced up my black boots. I refused to accept that that piece of shit man was related to me in any way. I was shaking with anger. I hated my house, I hated my mother, and I hated her stupid boyfriend and the stupid empty bottles of alcohol that littered the floors when I walked in and out the front door. I hated the fact that I was frightened to leave my room in the morning, and that I couldn't get a chance to even make toast or brush my teeth sometimes unless mom and Rick were passed out.

Both Kim and Daniel were quiet. I bit my lip and forced myself not to cry, even though I could feel a lump in my throat and tears welling in my eyes. I vaguely heard Kim ask if I had eaten anything, and thanked the heavens that I had such valuable friends as these.

"Yeah." I muttered, my voice unsteady as I picked at my nails.

"What did you eat?" Kim pried.

I was quiet for a couple seconds. "Toast."

"How many pieces did you have?"

I didn't want to answer her. She was always concerned about the amount of food that I ate – she would always make sure that I got what I needed. It made it harder to deny my body food – something that was slowly becoming less and less important to me, thanks to Kim. "One."

Daniel immediately turned left and stopped at a convenience store.

* * *

"No, no. What you've gotta do is look for something in the store that's expensive, but looks really cheap. And then you switch price tags with something that _is _really cheap. Then you've gotta put the original back on it, and return it for store credit. That's how I got this jacket. Ten bucks, this thing cost me." Kim proudly opened her blue coat to show what a prize it was. I briefly acknowledged Nick and Lindsay arriving on the scene.

"Aw, it's beautiful. Clearly worth all the effort." Ken's voice leaked with sarcasm as he regarded Kim's 'purchase'. I took out a cigarette and my lighter, deciding that now that both Lindsay and Kim were here there was going to be a fair amount of drama. Not to mention the fact that Kim had broken up with Daniel recently, so there was already tension there. I was surprised that she had even been in the car this morning.

After some brainless bickering, the conversation shifted to a potential party that could happen the next night at Lindsay's house. Kim began to tease Lindsay, saying that she was too 'lame' to throw a party, and of course, after that blow, Lindsay had to agree.

"Why not?" She scoffed. "I like parties."

"Ok guys, ten bucks each for the keg." Daniel collected the money, and gazed at my expectantly. I shot him a look and blew the smoke out of my nose.

"What if I don't wanna come?" I made a face. I didn't even want beer – when I drank, I drank to get drunk. I was definitely going to go to this party already tipsy. Breaking into my parent's liquor cabinet was easy enough to do anyway.

Daniel scoffed. "Katherine, cut the shit."

I sulked, reluctantly handing in my ten dollars.

* * *

I arrived at the party just as Daniel's cousin and friends arrived. I had seen them before – at a barbecue a long time ago. They usually stayed away from me because of my stepdad. I laughed as one of them picked up Kim and slapped her on the butt, carrying her into the house.

"Hey Lindsay, sorry I'm late." I grinned at my new friend. The alcohol hadn't quite embedded itself into my system on the walk over, but I was just starting to feel the effects. I still had the flask of Whiskey tucked safely away in my coat pocket.

"N-no problem." She smiled at me. It seemed like she already had some alcohol in her system as well. I made my way into the house and found Mark, the drug dealer with insane hair.

"Hey, Katherine. How's my favourite customer doing this fine evening?" Mark lifted up his beer cup and smiled.

"You say that to all your customers!" I grinned, poking him in the chest and pulling out my flask. It had actually been my fathers – he never kept any alcohol in it, mainly just water – but I had been using it to carry around whatever I wanted. It was a nice heirloom, sort of bittersweet.

"Oh yeah? You want me to prove that you're my favourite?" Mark watched me take a swig from the flask and smile again. I frowned. What did he mean by that? I decided to play it safe and notify him that I was in dire need of some of his best hash. I didn't know what he did with his collection of plants, but for some reason it turned out better than any one else's pot in my neighbourhood.

"Yeah, you can give me some hemp, dipshit." I hiccupped once, now feeling the effects of the alcohol slowly creeping up on me. This particular whiskey was from my stepfather's collection, which meant that the somewhat large flask could contain enough to get me well out of my mind. I was eager to buy my drugs before I got to that mental state.

"Alright," Mark made a face. "Jeez. How did you even know I'd have any?"

"I didn't." I burped and held out thirty-five dollars. "Gimme three grams."

Mark rolled his eyes and reached into his coat pocket, digging out the proper amount and then handed it over. I exchanged the pot for the money, and then backed away as calmly – and as least drunkenly – as possible.

"I-I'll be keeping an eye on –" I hiccupped again, and rose my hand to point it at Mark. "y-you, mister."

Mark just scoffed and turned away to find someone else to talk to – presumably another customer. I backed up long enough to find myself next to Kim and Nick, who were sitting on the couch grimacing. I hadn't even noticed that someone had been playing the piano. It was the religious girl – Millie – singing about Jesus or some crap.

I spun around and watched her play for a little bit, before wandering off and finding Ken sitting on the couch talking to Sam, Lindsay's younger brother. Ken looked a little put out – perhaps he was angry with someone or he hadn't drunken enough – either way I was too drunk to find out.

"Heyyy K-Ken." I slurred as I plopped down on the couch next to him.

He gazed at me, frowning. "Are you drunk?"

"I dunno." I giggled, and lifted two fingers up separated by a tiny place. "J-just a llllittle."

"You're drunk! But that's impossible – someone replaced the keg with non-alcoholic beer."

"W-what?" I lifted up my flask and took another sip. Considering that I had downed the majority of the Whiskey bottle before getting over to Lindsay's without having any food, I was on a fast track to vomit land.

"Goddamit, you're drinking from a – hold on, what's in it?" Ken grabbed it from me and took a long slurp.

"Hey!" I hit him in the arm, making him relinquish the flask. "S'mine."

"Alright, alright." He got up off the couch and muttered something about going to find the real keg and playing quarters, but I was pretty hammered at that point, and didn't understand a word that he was saying. Through my blurred vision I tried to look down the dim hole that was the rest of the flask. I couldn't see how much Whiskey I had left, but I chugged it anyway.

Everything went black just as I heard Neal yell 'police!'

* * *

I woke to find myself in the familiar setting of Daniel's car. The rumbling engine and constant movement was enough to have me gagging, and I made a Chewbacca noise to let whomever was driving the car know that I was going to puke.

"Welsh? You alright?" Daniel stopped the car and looked into the back seat. "You don't look so good."

"Of course she doesn't, Daniel. She's completely wasted. Come here, Kath." Kim dragged me out of the car and allowed me to regurgitate to my stomach's delight. She was patient, rubbing me on the back and holding my hair back. I let out another noise that sounded like I was drowning, and spewed again. It continued like this for a couple of minutes, until my stomach was finally empty. I lay against Kim like a helpless bag of bricks. I didn't have any energy left to do anything.

"You finished?" Kim was stroking my hair, soothingly combing out the knots with her fingers and massaging my scalp. I had to admit, if we were to stay the night in the abandoned street I wouldn't have minded.

"She can stay at my place. Last time she went to yours your mom gave her a black eye." I heard Daniel say.

I didn't hear what Kim said, but I felt her move, so I assumed that she had nodded 'yes'. It was funny – how our relationship worked. It was like Daniel and Kim were some splendid foster parents that I had stumbled upon. They took care of me without a doubt in the world. Even at my worst moments – they helped me without questions, and without judgment. I couldn't have asked for more – my friends were taking more care of me than my parents. Daniel and Kim knew what was wrong, why I drank and why I took drugs. They sympathized with why I smoked and why I had bad anxiety.

So, in the dead of night, I allowed my family to carry me home.

* * *

When I woke again, disoriented for the second time that night, the familiar smell hit me in the nostrils; Daniel's room. I had stayed over before many times, in fact too many times to count – most of them being when my parents wouldn't allow me to sleep or my stepfather was threatening to burn my guts.

I groggily raised my head, the uncomfortable nausea still resting in the pit of my stomach. Daniel was snoring beside me, clearly knocked out after an evening of partying and fooling around with Kim.

I decided I needed a joint.

I got up and ventured over to the drawer where I knew Daniel kept his rolling papers, and searched my pocket for the bag that I had purchased earlier in the evening. Pulling out what I needed, I crafted the drug into a nicely sized spliff and began to smoke, leaning out the window so that I wouldn't clog up Daniel's room. It took ten minutes for the calming strand to begin to affect my brain, and after finishing the joint; I climbed back into bed with my friend.

"You didn't share."


	4. Chapter 3 - Tricks and Treats

**'Tricks and Treats'**

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"Do you like that?" Daniel play-fought Kim, pretending to strangle her. "Does it getcha hot?"

"Would you knock it off? You're making me sick!" Ken grumbled from his spot next to me on the bleachers. He'd been watching them for several minutes, and had seemingly grown tired of their affectionate play. The patio was always like this for us. It was just an opportunity for Daniel and Kim to make out in between classes with an audience that wouldn't call the principal for public indecency.

"Hey, why don't you make out with Nicky there, and we'll call it a foursome?" Daniel grinned back at his friend. Nick scoffed, banging his drumsticks on the garbage can.

"Hey, why don't you make out with my butt and we'll call it love?" Ken teased right back. I just giggled and continued with my cigarette, puffing out smoke and trying to make distinguishable shapes every once and awhile.

"Hey, watch out guys – here comes the narc." Kim narrowed her eyes at the oncoming Lindsay Weir, who clearly didn't know what was about to hit her. Kim had been telling the same joke around for about a week – she would make you think that you had ratted someone out and that a relation was trailing you, when instead you had done nothing wrong. I rolled my eyes and tuned her out, focusing in on the burning tip of my fag.

"So, what're you doing for Halloween?" I heard Nick ask Lindsay.

"Oh, I have to hand out candy with my mom. I know it sounds dorky – she just gets really into it."

"Oh Lindsay, I don't think it's dorky." Kim snorted. I nearly rolled my eyes again. She really was set on being a bitch today, wasn't she?

"Hey, at least she's being nice!" Nick turned on Kim. "Just because you hate your mom doesn't mean everybody else does, okay?"

I raised my hand, the still burning cigarette in between my fingers. "I hate my mother."

"Come on, everybody hates their mom." Daniel grinned while Nick tried to ignore my comment. I was starting to have a sneaking suspicion that he was developing the slightest crush on Lindsay.

"Well, what are you guys doing for Halloween?" Lindsay looked around at us.

"Oh well Kim, Nick, Katherine and I are going out – borrowin' my uncle's big ass 'caddy…and we thought maybe you'd like to come with us." Daniel looked slightly hesitant – he hadn't notified everyone about this news. That 'everyone' being me. Not that I had a problem with Lindsay coming with us – it made things less awkward if there were three people to watch Daniel and Kim make out instead of two. And Lindsay seemed like a pretty cool girl – she had helped me with some homework in algebra class.

"Oh, you mean l-like a double date?" Lindsay asked timidly, clearly disregarding the fact that I was coming at all.

Ken scoffed from beside me. I hit him in the shoulder and snuffed out my cigarette, debating whether or not to light another one. I was in for a long Halloween night – especially considering what Daniel and Kim liked to do.

"If that's what you need to call it in your diary, princess." Kim teased.

"I can't." Lindsay seemed just a little bit disappointed while throwing out an excuse about spending time with family. It was nice to see someone who valued family time – with an actually functioning family – over throwing eggs at children and denting mailboxes all night. I would kill to have a family to hand out candy with, but ruining people's mail receptacles would have to suffice.

The bell rang, and I sighed heavily, gazing at Ken.

"History." We groaned at the same time.

* * *

There was a change of plans, it seemed, on Halloween night, because Daniel stopped in front of the Weir household and honked twice.

"Wait, she's coming?" I gazed out the window to her home. I suddenly wondered what her parents were like.

"Yeah. Come on, Lindsay!" Daniel yelled at our brown haired friend running across the street. She slid into the car, and we were off. And, as I would have guessed, the minute Daniel started to go really fast Kim leaned out the window of her seat and began to scream. I didn't know what it was with her and cars – I guess she liked to go fast.

"Don't fall out!" Daniel grabbed her ass, and Kim laughed manically. Lindsay gave me a weary glance across from Nick, and I gave her a smile, lighting up my cigarette.

"She's a roller…a high roller baby!" Kim sang along to April Wine on the radio, but Daniel turned it down.

"Would you knock it off, blondie? You're gonna blow the speakers." Daniel switched the knob on the radio.

"Oh I'm sorry, Grandpa, I'll try not blow anything of yours from now on." Kim gave Daniel one of her best bitch faces, and I found myself laughing uncontrollably.

"Watch it, Welsh! Don't burn anything!" Daniel snapped as I rocked back and forth like an insane mental patient – that which I was – in the car with my cigarette dangerously close to his precious leather seat.

"Hey, so what do you guys wanna do? There's this haunted house that could be kinda scary." Lindsay suggested, obviously not understanding how our Halloweens had worked for the past five years.

"Yeah, y'know? That could be kinda fun." Nick agreed with her. My suspicions were confirmed – he definitely liked her.

"For who? Losers?" Kim scoffed.

"Hey, shut up! I like haunted houses!" I had a feeling that Daniel was being sarcastic – that or he was just siding against Kim to make Lindsay feel better.

"Oh, I rest my case." Kim laughed.

"Hey, listen. Let's just drive around and see where the night takes us. Is that cool with you?" Daniel asked. His question was directed at the newest addition. "Lindsay?"

"Huh? Oh, yeah! I'm up for anything!" Lindsay evidently did not want to what we were known to do on the night of the dead. Too bad.

"Right on, kid."

I blew my smoke out the window and listened to Nick and Lindsay getting along perfectly. "You two are _adorable_." I took another inhale. Nick rolled his eyes, but I saw a smile on Lindsay's face that I wasn't sure was platonic.

After a while of driving around, the conversation had shifted to the aspect of Halloween and how it was complete bullshit.

"Well, think about it. All of the people in this town are _real _religious. But just 'cause it's Halloween, they'll hang pictures of devils, witches, ghosts – all over their houses. It's a joke."

"Yeah!" Lindsay agreed. "Yeah, I know. It's total white middle class hypocrisy."

Everyone in the car, including me, tried to understand what she was talking about, so we just nodded our heads and pretended to catch on. It was sort of sad – really. That we had no idea what she was going on about. This was exactly how the majority of our classes in school went. One of the brains would talk and talk until the teacher was satisfied, and all of the burnouts would nod along and pretend to understand the flow of information.

"You wanna know what I think about it?" Kim turned to us and burped. I erupted into giggles again, glad that I was sitting beside the window so that I could let the puffs of my cigarette out. "Lovely Kim, y'know – your years in charm school have really paid off."

"Oh, yeah? How are things going at ass school?" Kim grinned at me.

"Getting' all A's." I smiled and inhaled my nicotine again. There was a chorus of 'oh's' from my friends. It was nice to know that I could make them happy, even in times where their lives weren't so happy.

"Hey! You know where we could go? We could go to the movies! There's a new Friday the 13th playing." Lindsay suggested.

"God! Why are you so hung up on doing something? Are we boring to you?" Kim flipped around to give Lindsay an irritable glare.

"Hey, no! She's right! We can't just drive around all night."

"It's Halloween – we're not just gonna drive around. We are…" Daniel turned up the radio in the middle of Cheap Trick's 'Gonna raise hell'. We began to sing along, and I avoided Lindsay's exasperated facial expression. I knew that she was beginning to have enough of Kim – her weeks of trying to actually become somewhat of a friend to her weren't amounting to anything.

Eventually we stopped to allow Kim to apply her eyeliner, and we decided to kick some pumpkins in. It wasn't too harmful – pumpkins were virtually worthless.

"Don't worry about it – it's Halloween." Daniel assured a nervous looking Lindsay. "We're supposed to do this stuff."

Nick kicked the smiling pumpkin in, and ran for it before the owner of the house could see what we had done. He jumped in the car, and Daniel took off. Lindsay looked the slightest bit shocked. "I can't believe we just did that!"

"Don't worry about it – they'll grow back." I lit up another cigarette. Daniel scoffed.

"You keep smoking like that Welsh, your lungs'll turn black before you get pregnant."

"Shut up, Desario. Waittaminute, Stop the car." I had spotted some pumpkins that were of squishing size, and I had a sudden urge to not just stomp on the, but destroy them.

"What?"

"Just stop the car!"

Daniel slowed the vehicle, and I hopped out, walking calmly towards the friendly looking carved pumpkins. I hated how people etched happy faces onto these vegetables.

"Come on, Welsh! Not like last year!" Daniel realized what I was going to do – this was why he never let me squish any of the pumpkins. I got a bit carried away sometimes.

I trapped the cigarette in between my lips and vowed that I wouldn't get caught like last Halloween. This year – I was going to be a bitch to these pumpkins and get away with it. The first happy orange face got his smile kicked in, the second content looking dipshit was picked up and thrown against the ground, and the third was taken with me into the car.

"Katherine!" Kim stretched her arms out, motioning to give the pumpkin to me while Daniel shook his head. "Gimme."

I handed her the pumpkin and resumed my smoking, watching the rest of my friends go and kick pumpkins in to their hearts delight. Lindsay also brought a pumpkin with her into the car, although she threw it out the window when it's deformed face started to smell. I didn't mind going around on Halloween like this – it was fun and a change of scenery. Entertainment, if you could call it that instead of vandalism.

Our next activity involved the ever so trusty baseball bat. Nick decided to go first, and with his tongue out and a 'batter's up, baby!', he smashed in the first mailbox that we crossed. We cheered and then handed off the bat to Lindsay, who took the next mailbox completely off its post.

"Yeah! Alright, my turn. And I get to go twice since a certain someone," I poked Daniel in the back on the head. "didn't let me smash the rest of the pumpkins."

"Alright, whatever." He shook his hand at me, and the bat landed in my hands. I leaned out of the car, my cigarette resting calmly between my lips again as I zeroed in on my target. As much as I sometimes wished to spend Halloween inside handing out candy with a real mother – I loved doing this.

I swung precisely at the right moment, and left a nice big dent on the side of a red mailbox. "Dammit." I cursed, readying myself for the next blow.

"Alright, you little bitch!" I yelled at the oncoming blue mailbox, and swung as fiercely as possible, making the mailbox clatter onto its owners nicely mowed lawn. There was a chorus of cheers, and we drove away. After a few more mailboxes, we brought out the eggs, and Lindsay and Kim got ready for the first unsuspecting victims. "Ready? Go!" They released their dairy bombs, and they exploded on one poor boys face who seemed just the slightest bit familiar…

I shook it off, and clapped along, grinning to myself. All seemed fine until Lindsay went quiet. "Oh my god." Her alarm was reserved. "We just egged my little brother."

We all hid our smiles – as awful as that may have been, "Oh my god. Stop the car!"

There were several voices arguing at once, and finally Daniel relinquished, backing the car up to allow Lindsay to hop out to check on Sam.

"Sam! I'm so sorry!"

"Come on, get in the car." Kim tried to coax him.

"Sam, I'm sorry. Let us give you a ride home, okay?"

"Kid, it's not your sister's fault. She didn't know it was you." Daniel tried to help, but Sam kept walking.

"Look, she's really really upset kid, I swear to god."

"It's true Sam, I swear to god." Lindsay begged and pleaded with her sibling.

But Sam wouldn't listen, instead choosing to jog away from the moving vehicle. "Sam!" His sister called after him. "SAM!"

Sam had upped his pace, now sprinting away. Lindsay slammed on the side of the car in frustration. I succinctly wondered if that was how my parents ever felt when I got away from them in the mornings. I shook the thought away – they were too drunk to bother where I went. As long as the welfare checks were being delivered appropriately, no one cared where I went everyday.

Lindsay demanded to be dropped off at home, and Kim was more than glad to coax Daniel to do just that. "I knew she was gonna be a drag." She shook her head.

"She wasn't a drag." I smiled at Lindsay. "She just made a mistake."

"Shut up, Welsh." Kim growled. I quieted, pinpointing on my third - or was it my fourth? - cigarette of the evening.

We dropped Lindsay off, and then resumed our activities. Nick seemed slightly disheartened at the fact that Lindsay had gone home, but after he smashed in a couple more mailboxes he was right back to normal. At one point, we decided to break out a joint and share it between us – the marijuana scent filling the car and obstructing our senses.

"I think," Nick drawled. "That Reagan is the best…thing – yeah, thing, to ever happen to us."

"He hasn't even been elected yet, stupid." Daniel pulled into a convenience store, and we hopped out. Disregarding the fact that we smelt like pot, the man at the cash register allowed us to buy smokes, burgers and shakes. We sat eating them on the hood of Daniel's car.

"Y'know, this is the life." Kim leaned back next to me and we lay staring at the stars, now shining brightly above us, listening to Nick and Daniel argue over whether or not Led Zeppelin could hire a better drummer after John Bonham. I liked this. I liked being with my friends. I also liked the stars, and it took me a moment to realize the similarity between the two. The stars were like my friends – twinkling lights surrounded by never-ending, scary darkness.

"Yeah." I smiled. "It is."


	5. Chapter 4 - Kim Kelly Is My Friend

**'Kim Kelly Is My Friend'**

**( ****cgi/set?id=100208169****)**

It was a normal morning, besides the fact that I had a bruised cheek. This morning my father had decided to punch me out of the blue, and I had taken off with my toast and coat in tow. I had managed to cover it with makeup, but my face still ached whenever spoke or yawned. This was a problem that I was unfortunately used to dealing with, and cursed my tired, weary bones.

Daniel, Nick and I were leaning against the lockers, talking about Daniel's car and how it needed engine repairs for the third time, when Daniel suddenly reached out behind me.

"Hey! Those are for my French class!" Millie glared at Daniel, who had apparently taken a doughnut from her box while she was passing by.

"Oh, but I love sprinkles." He gave her a helpless face. Once Daniel took something – he wouldn't give it back. And I didn't think that Millie wanted her Daniel spit covered doughnut back.

"Fine. Just eat it." She growled.

"Hey, but I'm really hungry too. Please?" Nick pleaded with her.

"Just take the plain one, okay?" Millie was relinquishing doughnuts faster than I could say 'mum', so I took one too. She said nothing, and I remembered the time that I had threatened to beat her up last year over English homework – she surely hadn't forgot our little incident.

"Oh, thank you." Nick happily bit into his newfound treat.

I thought that that was the last we would see of sweet treats for the day, but Karen Scarfolli bumped into her causing the box of doughnuts to go crashing to the floor.

"God! People are walking here, okay?" Karen exploded.

"Ugh! Now they're dirty! Just eat them!" Millie completely ignored Karen's outburst, and stormed off.

Kim, Daniel, Nick and I laughed while kneeling down to collect more doughnuts. I took another one with sprinkles. I didn't eat a lot – mainly because I thought I was grossly overweight **(A/N: She is nearing skin and bones)** and a lot of food just tasted like cardboard to me. But one doughnut was okay for this month. The only downside was that this meant I couldn't eat lunch.

"What? What's the problem?" Nick asked when Karen didn't accept the doughnut he was offering her.

"My problem is your face, dirt bag." She spat and clomped away down the hall.

"What's wrong with her?" Nick asked, the two doughnuts now finding a resting place on one of his drumsticks.

"I dunno – Ricky dumped her this morning. She's on the warpath." Kim shrugged.

"Yeah, I should know. My shirt's wet because she spent an hour crying on it. Then she punched me." I grimaced and patted my bruising shoulder. Karen and I were pretty good friends – we liked egging houses and ganging up against younger bullies together. Not to mention I was good at listening to her complain.

"Well – if she's looking for new customers I'm up for a test drive." Daniel wiggled his eyebrows suggestively, and Kim hit him on the chest, giggling. "Shut up, Daniel. Hey Karen! Wait up."

* * *

"So why did Ricky break up with Karen? Was she a prude? Did she, y'know, not go the distance?" Daniel asked, bringing his fork up to his mouth once again. Kim laughed.

"Go the distance?" I snorted. I was the only one without a tray at the lunch table, and no one had said a thing yet. I was praying for Daniel and Kim not to notice – since they were usually the ones to monitor my food intake.

"No, Karen's not a prude. She's a slut, obviously." Kim made a face and twirled her straw in her chocolate milk.

"_Obviously._" Daniel repeated. "She's a friend of yours."

"Last week, she started getting it on with Ricky's older brother." Kim began to prove her point.

"Cool?"

"Yesterday," My friend continued. "He walked in on them."

"Who walked in on who?" Lindsay asked, just having arrived in on the conversation.

"_Who walked in on who?_" Kim imitated Lindsay. "God, people are so gossip-y at this school. It's like – get a life, y'know?"

Kim didn't even acknowledge the fact that she might have slightly insulted Lindsay, and instead took some of her yogurt on her finger, delivering it straight to her mouth. Lindsay took her yogurt off of the stray, leaving it in front of Kim with a disgusted look, and left the table.

"What's her problem?" Kim asked as we watched her walk away. Nick followed Lindsay with a scoff after glaring at Kim.

"She's just mad."

"Mad about what?"

I shrugged playing with the sunglasses resting on the top of my head. "You don't like her, do you?"

Kim was quiet, but she made a face and started to eat again.

"She's not a total bitch, Kim. Be nice."

Kim sighed and leaned back in her seat. "I'm sorry – it's just…" She seemed to have an internal debate with herself for a minute. "My mom was being really stupid this morning."

I nodded. I knew the feeling. I knew how it could ruin your entire day and how you wouldn't be able to focus on anything when your 'parents' yelled at you. I knew how there was an indescribable feeling in the pit of your stomach – a mix of sadness, fear, jealousy and rage that wouldn't go away until some good old fashioned revenge against an innocent soul.

Sooner or later, after the lunch period had ended, Daniel, Kim and I proceeded to Algebra. I was already feeling a bit nauseous beforehand – after all I had only eaten a doughnut today – so I chose the seat in the back corner of the classroom.

This resulted in me not understanding half of the lesson and listening to Kim bitch about her mother. I eventually convinced her to call Cookie and settle the argument. So, after class, Kim stopped in front of the payphone in the hallways.

"Hold on, lemme call my mom. I want an apology for this morning." Kim growled and stalked towards the phone.

So Daniel and I waited while Kim dialed up the number and began to converse with her mother. Knowing the moods that they had been in this morning – and the mood that Kim was in now, this phone conversation would last awhile.

"What are you guys doing?" Lindsay took me by surprise, and I turned to see her frame behind me.

"Kim wants us to wait for her. She's on the phone with her mom." Daniel explained, his lean form tilted against the wall nonchalantly.

"I said I don't know!" Kim was yelling into the phone, catching Lindsay's attention. "Are you deaf? No! I'm trying, okay? I-I'm trying! GOD, would you quit yelling at me, you psychopath?!"

"You know, sometimes relationships can be a drag." Daniel pointed out.

"Especially if you're goin' out with her." Lindsay raised a brow, and then realized that Daniel was giving her a pointed look. "Sorry." She quickly apologized.

"No, I know." Daniel laughed.

"She can be cool if you get to know her." I butt in, giving Lindsay an encouraging smile.

"You know, mother? You have _really _lost it this time! No – well you need help! God!" Kim hung up the phone and stalked towards us.

The bell rang, making me jump. "Oh, biology." Daniel pulled me along. "We've got a test. So, we'll see you guys later."

"See ya!" I waved and we proceeded down the corridor.

"How are things with your mom?" Daniel turned to me, hands in the back of his pockets. I made a face.

"Awful, as usual. Why do you ask?"

"Well," Daniel pointed a finger behind him. "just seeing as how Kim got all mad like that…"

"Yeah, I can guarantee you it's more of less the same thing over at my place." I knew that Daniel could relate to what Kim and I were going through to some extent – his father had been ill with a sickness that I couldn't pronounce the name of for a long time, and since Daniel was the one with the car it was his responsibility to go out and get the medication. His mother wasn't the friendliest person on the planet, most likely because she had a problem child, but Daniel was good at heart.

We stepped in the biology classroom just as our teacher began to hand out the test papers. There was a little ball in the bottom of my stomach that grew the tiniest bit when I took a look at some of the questions. My facial expression must have been concerned, because I took one look at Daniel and his smirk said it all.

'Be cool.' He mouthed over to me. I nodded and took a shaky breath. It would be okay.

But it wasn't.

We had the entire period to write the damn test and not even five minutes before we started I felt like throwing up. I couldn't do it. The first question was to explain what Cladistic classification was, and for the life of me I couldn't pull the definition of it out of my brain. I knew that it was stored in there somewhere; I just couldn't find it. So I moved on to the next question. The question was to explain what Thylakoids were. I remembered hearing something about them in class, so I wrote down what I thought they might have been, and moved on. The third question was about photosynthesis, which I knew lots about. I smiled and explained the process in full detail. The sixth question was when I lost it. The fourth and fifth questions had been awful – I couldn't comprehend them at all, but the sixth question was asking about vascular plants. I didn't even know that we had learned about vascular plants in this entire term. It was impossible that this could be on the test – how could the teacher have done this?

I felt the bile piling up in the back of my throat, and I got up as least noisily as possible, excusing myself without reason from the classroom, my bag in tow. I assumed that Daniel explained the situation, because the teacher did not follow – I only heard my friend's footsteps behind me. I made a right towards the trashcan and practically face planted into it; puke expelling itself from my throat.

"Couldn't've picked a better time. That test was killing me, man." I could almost see Daniel's grin as he held my hair back. He loved getting out of tight situations. It was almost like a buzz for him – he liked almost getting caught, then getting of Scott free at the last minute knowing he'd done something wrong.

"Ugh." I wiped my mouth and spat once more in the trash can for good measure. The nausea was clearing in my stomach, and I looked down at the mess of sprinkle-y doughnut and stomach acid at the bottom of the wastebasket. Tears welled up in my eyes. I hated the fact that school made me nervous – the fact that I would come here and feel like shit everyday. The fact that I had to put school before my mental problems, or the problems I had at home. I hated the fact that I was dumb and didn't know what the teacher was talking about in class.

"I gotta clean up." I made my way to the girl's lavatory, Daniel trailing me. I did my usual routine, washing my face and gurgling water so the remaining vomit on my face was washed away. There were tears in my eyes again, and my face scrunched up as I slid to the ground.

"Hey, what's wrong?" Daniel stopped fixing his hair in the mirror so come sit next to me. I began to cry, tears spilling down my cheeks in torrents.

"I hate it, Daniel." I sobbed, flopping against his shoulder. "I hate being stupid."

"You're not stupid. You get better grades than the rest of us. Except Lindsay." Daniel hugged me tight to his chest, as if I were to escape if let go. It was like being held in a cocoon of warmth and safety – I never wanted to leave. I liked the feeling of being wrapped in someone's arms that cared about me.

"I-I hate it when e-everyone raises their hands – a-and I don't! Because I'm d-d-dumb!"

Daniel just held me and whispered words of wisdom and comfort until my violet sobs and shaking slowly let up. Soon I was a quivering mass, sniffling every so often. By now there was a big wet spot on Daniel's shirt. We said nothing for a long while, and I just sat listening to the sound of his breathing whilst trying to control mine. The nausea was gone, instead replaced with the feeling of disappointment. I was disappointed with myself that I hadn't finished the test, and that I had to go running out of class like the big phony idiot that I was.

_Absolutely ridiculous. You freaking moron. _I chided myself.

The bell rang, and I sighed wearily, suspecting that some girls would come in here and start squealing about how there was a boy in the girl's washrooms.

"C'mon, let's go find Kim."

* * *

I rolled my eyes for the fifth time that afternoon upon glancing at my two friends making out. Daniel and Kim were cute, yes, but considering I had vomited only several hours before – they were spawning seeds in the pit of my stomach that I didn't necessarily want at the moment. I simply turned the other way and smoked my cigarette in silence.

"Hey Lindsay! Where're you going?" Kim turned away from Daniel when Lindsay arrived on the scene.

"I dunno…home?" Lindsay looked up at Kim questioningly.

"Well, what are you doing later?" Kim asked her.

I couldn't believe my ears. Were Kim and Lindsay actually getting along? Impossible. Last time I had checked, Kim hated Lindsay. Either way, they seemed to be getting along just fine now, because Kim was inviting Lindsay over for dinner. I shrugged it off, glad that maybe from now on the group could get a nice drama-free zone.

"Hey." Daniel caught my attention. "You aight?"

I nodded and blew a long stream of smoke from my mouth. "I'll be fine."

"Call me if you don't feel good tonight, ok?"

I nodded again. He resumed talking to Kim, and I was just about to leave for my house when I stopped. "Hey guys?"

Both Daniel and Kim turned to me.

"Do you mind if I stay at one of your houses today?" I really didn't feel like going back to my house. After what had happened this morning I was reluctant to return to my house.

Kim shook her head. "I'm having Lindsay over, sorry."

"You can stay at my place. I'm going out anyway. Doors open." Daniel nodded and waved. I smiled, grateful that I always had a designated safe spot that I could call home.

Since I didn't have anything else to do that night, I decided to head directly over to Daniel's house and see if I could actually complete some homework. It was a pretty long walk to his house – but I was grateful that he was letting me stay either way. His mother was used to me, and I had only seen his father a couple times anyway.

When I arrived, the door was open just like Daniel had said it would be. I said hello to Daniel's mother who was making vegetables in the kitchen, and made my way over to Daniel's room. It was the same as always, besides a couple of new records sitting beside his record player. I took out _Black Flag _and let it spin, using Daniel's large headphones to help me concentrate on my studies.

I struggled through my math homework, but did the best I could and moved along to science. Same result. I concluded that I was doing everything incorrectly, and hoped for the best. Perhaps I could score at least a 50%. Deciding that I was finished trying to heighten my average, I ventured to the bathroom and washed my face, using my overnight bag I always left at the Desario household. I usually had at least one package of things in each one of my friend's houses, which included clothing, a toothbrush and tampons. Just in case a situation like this happened to come along and I was house hopping for a week.

Creeping back to Daniel's room, I walked past a closed door that had the initials E.D on it. I frowned and remembered Daniel telling me about how he had an older brother who had sadly become addicted to a (unnamed) drug. This must have been his room. My brows knit again, and I continued on to Daniel's room to try and get some rest. I didn't want to think about family at the moment.

* * *

When I woke, I woke in fear.

There was no other way to describe it. I wanted to die. I was afraid to live, afraid to fight any longer. I was afraid of the government, the laws, the morals, the people, the grades, the jobs, my house and my parents. The fight in me had run out. I was done. I knew where the knives were, I knew that no one really expected me to become anything anyway, and that when I was gone I would be missed to a minimal extent. I could be of no further pain or annoyance to anyone – the earth would be rid of my filth. I could no longer be called a burnout or a washout simply because I was gone.

So, with determined but shaky steps, I ambled into the kitchen and opened every drawer until I found the biggest Chef's knife. I knew that Daniel wouldn't mind the bloodstains on his floor – his mother would have to be a bit disappointed, though. Just as I was debating whether or not to use the Chef's knife or the butcher's knife, my eye caught the black telephone on the wall. The chord hung almost lifelessly – to say the least – but I knew that there would certainly be someone on the other end of that phone who could help. I scrambled to pick up the communication device and juggled it in my hands, tears now pooling in my eyes as I punched in one of my friend's phone numbers, the numbers coming by heart. I didn't even know who I was calling, I had all of the numbers memorized and in my moment of temporary fragility I wasn't paying too much attention to whom I was contacting.

The phone rang once, then twice, and then a third time. It didn't seem like anyone was going to pick up at 1 AM in the morning, but thankfully on the fourth ring…

"_Hello?_" Ken's groggy voice came from the other end of the telephone, and I let out a breath I didn't even know I'd been holding in. I didn't know what I would have done if he hadn't picked up the phone.

"Ken?" I sniffled into the phone, looking down at the knife in my left hand. "Help."

_"What's wrong?" _Ken's voice floated through the phone. He sounded groggy, but I didn't apologize in case I had woken him up.

"I have a knife." I blurted, and then quieted myself remembering that Daniel's mother must have gone to bed.

Ken didn't say anything for a while. _"And?" _

I was silent, waiting for him to put the two things together.

_"Oh, shit. Do you want me to come over?" _

"No – I just…" I didn't know what to say. I wanted to talk – if Kim or Daniel or Nick or even Lindsay were here they would know what to say. I knew that Ken would be able to talk me out of my delusions no problem – I should have stayed at his house. "I just wanna talk."

_"Wh- " _Ken didn't say anything for a long while. "_Okay. Let's talk." _


	6. Chapter 5 - Tests and Breasts

**'Tests and Breasts'**

**(**** cgi/set?id=100260370****)**

"Yeah, man, I dunno. I still think that they could've found a drummer and finished the tour, y'know -"

"Ok, Desario, Welsh, time for your favorite class." Mr. Kowcheski interrupted our conversation, beckoning Daniel and I into the room, making both of us pull faces as we went. I managed to grasp a concept of most things…but math? No way. And Kowcheski didn't make things better – he was harsh, cruel and spiteful. His lessons were utter agony to sit through.

"Come on people, simmer down. Let's go. This is my time, not yours – hey! Chatty Kathy! You sit on the furniture at home?" Kathy sat down in her seat with a glare. "Okay," Mr. Kowcheski continued. "Reminder about tomorrows test; its tomorrow."

There was a collective groan, and Daniel raised his hand. "Uh – Kowcheski?"

"Desario?" Kowcheski sighed. I had a feeling that he was getting real tired of Daniel's shit. After all – he'd been dealing with it since the first class in September, and it hadn't gotten any better. Daniel was his usual, troublemaker self.

"Didn't we take a test last week?" He questioned our Algebra teacher.

"Your point?"

"Well I just don't think you've taught us enough in the past week to give us another test." Daniel pointed out, making the class laugh.

"Okay people, in math, every week you build off of what you learned the week before. I mean, it's like a bus – if you keep missing the bus, you're never going to catch up!"

"But, uh – I don't ride the bus, sir." Daniel's tone was anything but serious. The class laughed again, but I couldn't even bring myself to smile this time. Kowcheski was right; if you kept missing the bus…you'd never catch it.

"Yeah, Desario, flunk another test and you might have to come back here next year and ride the bus with me again." By now Mr. Kowcheski's tone was just as ridiculous as Daniel's had been. The class let out a chorus of 'ooh's' at Kowcheski's words. Daniel was silent.

I momentarily speculated if Daniel had reached the same conclusion that I had. Perhaps now he realized that at one point or another, he needed to succeed with his grades. Everything was based off of a good education. If you didn't get good grades in high school, you wouldn't get into a good college, or college at all, and then you wouldn't have access to a good profession, and from there you wouldn't have money. It just kept going – and everything started with knowledge.

My epiphany was abandoned when Kowcheski brought our attention to today's lesson – advanced functions 101. I groaned and slumped my head down on my desk. It was easy to say that everything started from knowledge. The hard part was actually applying yourself to understand what the hell was going on in the classroom. This was my biggest struggle, besides the fact that high school generally sucked for me. It didn't matter that I had a tight-knit circle of friends that I could enjoy myself with. My family hated me, I wasn't mentally stable, I was constantly labeled a freak and there were several teachers who thought that my lifetime goal was to become a crackhead prostitute.

Needless to say, I didn't have much encouragement.

I looked over at Daniel beside me. I could safely conclude that he had already put the interaction with Kowcheski out of his mind, considering he was using his switchblade to carve something into the desk.

My Kowcheski's words rang through my head again. '_You keep missing the bus…you're never gonna catch up.'_

* * *

"I took twenty bucks from my mom, right? But she thought it was my brother – she completely went nuts on him! Hit him over the head with a spatula – I mean, it was hilarious." Kim was telling Nick, Lindsay and I about her evening last night.

"Sounds like it." Lindsay seemed less than impressed. I, instead, laughed along with Kim. I had actually been present for the incident – Cookie had literally grabbed the spatula and smacked Chip upside the head with all her might. Jack had done nothing, as per usual. It was strange how Kim's family worked. Some days it was like a comedy routine – others it was like a living nightmare. I could relate to her in the sense that my family was always like a living nightmare.

Suddenly, Nick took his straw out of his pop to blow some liquid onto Kim. I leaned back in surprise. Sometimes Nick would do strange things to Kim to make her upset and storm off. He had the best strategies for getting rid of her went he felt she personally wasn't wanted there. Or perhaps he sensed Lindsay's boredom with his love radar and wanted to save her.

"God, you bastard! Why'd you do that? What are you, lit or something? Jesus." Kim yelled, and then tried to clean her shirt.

"I'm sorry," Nick apologized. "Mellow out, alright?"

Kim scoffed and pushed his drink over so that his thighs were also covered in the sticky juice. "There, how do you like it? Now I gotta walk around all day with pop on my shirt, y'know? Thanks a lot." She stormed off, and I followed her, rapidly snuffing out my finished cigarette. I wanted to stop her bad mood before it infected anyone else.

"Kim!" I called out to her, seeing her at her locker. "Kim?"

"What do you want?" Kim flipped around.

"Nothing. We have economics together, remember?"

Kim made a face and cleared a path through a crowd of students to get to our classroom. "Ugh. Don't remind me."

It took five minutes for her to start ranting – I was glad that she was infecting me with her sour mood; if it had been anyone else they probably would have shot themselves by now.

"It's just, Nick is so stupid sometimes, y'know? I feel like he's gonna end up in prison or something 'cause he's such an idiot."

I laughed at the picture of Nick in an orange jumpsuit, trying to coax the prison guards into buying him a drum kit for his cellblock. "Yeah, I could see that happening."

"Ugh. Could you get me a tissue?" Kim grimaced, once again glaring down at the wet spot on her shirt.

"Sure." I rose from my seat and ventured to the front of the classroom, grabbing a tissue and returning it to my friend.

"Thanks." Kim grumbled and began to wipe her shirt in vain.

I watched her try to clean her stain and sighed. It was true, considering Nick wanted to be a famous drummer and enjoyed taking drugs; he was technically taking the fast lane to failure. Unless, of course, he took initiative and decided to enroll in a drum lesson. Nick was very passionate, but lacked some basic skills required to become as famous as he wanted to be.

* * *

"Oh, no. Put it out." Kim demanded as soon as she saw me light up. "You've already had one today."

"Aw, come on, Kim!" I whined, snuffing out the white nicotine stick with displeasure. "You know I need to get by on more than one a day."

"Well, I told you – get used to it. Now you won't be." She plopped down beside me on the abandoned bleachers and began to file her nails.

I mainly listened to her because she had threatened to beat the living crap out of me if I ever smoked more than one in front of her in a day. This of course, resulted in me trying to hide the fact that I had smoked more than one each day. It was difficult because one of the few places Kim and I saw each other was the patio – which was technically the only place on school property where I could smoke.

A friend was someone who allowed you total freedom to be yourself – and Ken, Kim, Daniel and Lindsay were just the people for me. They didn't care about the scars on my body or that I had anxiety issues. They granted me to do whatever I wanted to do in total peace. Except for times like this, when a certain friend wouldn't allow me to smoke my cigarette in peace.

"Oh god, I have that stupid history test next period." I grimaced, and tried to push away the nicotine longing.

"Did you study?" Kim's eyes flitted to mine.

"Yeah, a bit. I'm pretty worried about the demographic problems though." I sighed.

Kim didn't say anything, instead continuing to file her nails somewhat indignantly. She didn't like talking about education – it made her defensive and bitter. She, like me, hated the fact that she didn't get good grades and that she couldn't carry on a simple conversation about current events. Nothing really interested her, and besides the fact that the school held ample opportunities for her, she never took heed of anything that was thrusted into her face. Clubs, sports teams and councils passed her by like utility poles on a highway. Naturally – I was being hypocritical. I didn't take interest in many things either, but at least I was able to maintain a sixty plus average.

"Hey Kim, Katherine – where's Daniel?" Lindsay rounded the corner to the patio and asked us, interrupting me mid-thought.

"I dunno." Kim shrugged. "Beats me."

"We have a disciplinary meeting after school." Lindsay looked a tad bit nervous.

"Ugh." I made a face, remembering the last time I had a disciplinary meeting. It had resulted in Mr. Rosso giving me three detentions. "You nervous?"

Lindsay made a tiny sound, and Kim jumped in to reassure her. "You know, don't worry about it – Daniel gets out of stuff like this all the time."

"I mean, I shouldn't be worried about it, right? Kowcheski's a jerk. I mean he'll pass the test and then I'll tutor him, and he'll pass the class. I mean everything's gonna work out, right?" Lindsay's tone was hopeful as she straddled the bleacher next to us.

Kim and I began to laugh. "I'm sorry – you think that you and Daniel are gonna be like, study buddies?"

"He wants to learn, and what about the next test?" Lindsay clearly didn't know Daniel well enough.

"He'll just get the answers from someone else." Kim pointed out.

"He always does." Daniel coming up behind Kim and surprising her interrupted my final comment. I rolled my eyes at their stupid play fighting and gave my best supportive smile to Lindsay.

"You ready to stick it to the man? Partners in crime, gimme five." He held out his hand and continued to mess around with Kim.

Lindsay's face seemed to change. I knew what was happening – I had gone through the same thing when I first met Daniel. Lindsay was realizing how he worked, and how desperate and helpless he was to cling on to anyone who knew the answers. Not just for homework and tests, but also for any problems he had. If he knew how to deal with the problem at hand, he would. But if there was something that he couldn't get or that he had to work towards - by George would he avoid it with all his might. Daniel seemed to work very hard to _not _work.

"Hey, don't leave me hangin'." Daniel wiggled his hand once he realized that Lindsay wasn't giving in. Slowly but surely, Lindsay eventually brought her hand up to smack it against Daniel's with a hint of a smile. "Alright." He grinned.

Another loss on Daniel's side. In some terms, it should have been considered a victory – he had succeeded in getting Lindsay to help him cheat, they had gotten 'caught', and now all they had to do was deny, something that Daniel was excellent at. But Daniel didn't realize that he was being tricked out of something very valuable. Knowledge. Neither Daniel nor Lindsay realized this. Poor Daniel was stuck in an endless cycle of not understanding anything, finding someone to do it for him, and then starting the entire process over again because he hadn't understood the material in the first place.

To say the least, I was scared for him. I wasn't the brightest bulb in the set, but I understood that knowledge was power, and without knowledge you would end up with one of the jobs that no one wanted. Like a plumber, or a garbage man. I mean, how many people's life ambition was it to become a plumber? I hadn't met any…yet. Either way, I hoped that Daniel would soon realize that he was stuck in a circle that only he could get himself out of. This was a task that he couldn't convince someone to do for him.

* * *

"Hey, so I was thinking of having a smoke tonight at my place, whaddya say?" Nick was proposing his after school plans to me as we walked to Kim's car. We had made plans to hang out – just the three of us – but we weren't sure what we had wanted to do. This was a sublime alternative.

"Yeah, awesome!" I grinned, eagerly dumping my things into my disheveled locker and following Nick to the parking lot.

"Hurry up," Kim groaned. "I've been waiting here for like, an hour."

"Don't get your panties in a bunch." I grumbled and slid into the shotgun. Nick sullenly took the back seat. "Nick's house, on the double, driver!"

"Shutup!" Kim laughed, turning on the radio. Rush flowed through the speakers, and Nick immediately pulled out his drumsticks, bashing away on thin air. I rolled my eyes and sheared a weary glance with Kim. It seemed like she had forgiven him for this morning's altercation – a bit of juice on her shirt wasn't going to leave her pissed at him for the week.

"So Daniel and Lindsay got caught, huh?" I asked Kim. "Is that why they had a disciplinary meeting?"

"Yeah," Kim sighed. "Apparently there was an 'anonymous note'."

"Bullshit." I laughed. "Cops use that excuse all the time. It's a ploy."

"Daniel knows that."

"Yeah, he'll get out of it no problem." I bet that Daniel needed only spend half an hour with Kowcheski and Mr. Rosso, and then he would be let off the hook no problem. He had done it before – what was to stop him from doing it again?

"Hey, has he ever used that track one, two three thing around you?" I giggled, remembering Daniel's long guilt-tripping speech about how dichotomy effected a kids lifestyle and how sorting people into groups convinced him that he was a dumb child. He played a lot of teachers into thinking that he really did care about his grades, when instead he was making a reference to one of his favorite songs on Zeppelin II.

"Oh yeah," Kim laughed. "the stupid Zeppelin lemon song or something?"

"Hey!" Nick interrupted. "Zeppelin isn't stupid!" He pointed his drumstick grudgingly towards us for a second, and then continued with his kooky antics. This time it was Kim who rolled her eyes.

"Anyway," I continued, debating whether or not Nick was already stoned or not. "I was thinking of going to see the school play."

"What?!" Kim snorted. Anything to do with school involvement and she was already against it.

"Yeah, come on! We could go really _really _baked! It could be fun!"

"Jesus, Katherine – we'll see." Kim shook her head as she pulled into Nick's driveway, 'Spirit of the Radio' ending just in time.

As soon as we got to the basement, avoiding Nick's father on the way down, we began to roll joints. There were at least six on the table before we started to smoke them, one for each of us. It was our usual group routine – usually it consisted of at least two more people, but this was a special case. This meant more weed for us, so we happily kept rolling and smoking until Nick's stash had a good clump taken out of it.

"Okay, if we use much more I'm gonna run out!" Nick laughed, storing the rest of the drug underneath the couch in the same old box.

Kim blew some smoke out of her nose into my face. I recoiled and laughed, leaning back until I was lying on the floor.

"Okay," I muttered, taking another hit and coughing. "We need some music."

"That," Nick grinned manically. "I can do for you."

And naturally, Nick put on Zeppelin I. I huffed in disappointment, but allowed him to climb onto his drum set with the lit spliff still hanging from his lips without complaint. He began to bash away, and I focused on trying to finish my joint. I prayed that the effects of the drug came soon – I didn't think that I could tolerate much of Nick's musical antics without being under the influence of something.

The high hit me quicker than I imagine it would have, and I alerted Nick and Kim of my state by beginning to laugh. Nick's pot seemed to make me happier than my own pot. I didn't know if it was a placebo that had been planted in my mind – after all we had the same dealer – but whenever I smoked with Nick my high always seemed to be much more enjoyable.

Kim seemed to be having a great time – she had been giggling about something that Nick had done doing on the drums, and was now rolling around on the floor howling with laughter. I began to laugh as well – finding her bliss captivating and infectious. Within minutes, even Nick had started to join in, his drumming falling out of tune and step with the song, abandoned because of his outrageous delight. Our peace of mind and euphoria lasted for the next half an hour, and once it started to die down we smoked some more. Our attempts in keeping it alive succeeded. It was a never-ending exhilarating felicity that we had become habituated to. All of our lives had something wrong with them one way or another, and we loved being able to laugh without any boundaries – without any restrictions or regulations. There weren't any guidelines like school or law and order. There were no dreadful parents or distressing homework assignments to turn in, no hideous cheerleaders to ruin our fun. There was just Kim and Nick and I laughing like buffoons for hours.

At one point, we decided to put as much dry ice as possible into a bucket of hot water, and the effects were frightening to our still blazed minds. We screeched and yelled and struggle to get away from the steaming bucket, only to see the smog crawl further towards us. I hugged Kim in fear, only to discover that she was shrieking with laughter. Again, we were hit with a delirious feeling of jubilation. Nick must have mixed ecstasy with the marijuana, because only the weed itself could not have produced these feelings.

"You know," Kim smiled groggily at me while Nick was playing along to _Freewill_. "I really like you."

"Thanks, Kim." I smiled and flopped halfway on top of her, making her squeal.

"Ow! You're on my boob!" She laughed, shoving me off.

"Aw, I was just about to tell you how much I liked you too!" We hugged each other and collapsed into a fit of snickers, toppling over off of the couch and crashing into the now melted and lukewarm bucket of - previously - dry ice. We both cried out in bewilderment at first, wondering what we had bumped into, and then laughed even harder when we realized it was the now empty bucket.

"I thought we bumped into Nick and he peed his pants!" Kim was hysterical.

I couldn't stop laughing. My ribs hurt and my cheeks felt like they were about to fall off – just thinking about laughing and Kim laughing made me laugh even harder. The delirium and optimism surrounding us was overwhelming. Even such at the point that Nick stopped drumming and began to laugh just as hard as the both of us. Our cheerfulness was corrupting.

There was no need for words, no need for an explanation or logic. Sense and comprehension were of no use in this environment. It was just pure fun, boisterous amusement. Joy stacked on top of joy. Laughter and elation combining into one. We didn't care that Nick's father hadn't come to check on us in over three hours, we didn't care that Daniel and Lindsay had been caught or that everyone at school thought we were losers. All that mattered was that we were having the time of our lives in Nick Andopolis's basement.

Eventually, around 2 AM, I stumbled my way home. It wasn't too long of a walk from Nick's house to mine, so I was capable of finding it even in the state that I was in. I entered my house as silently as possible, praying that the creaky front door wasn't going to live up to its name tonight and that both my mother and my stepdad were passed out. Fortunately, it wasn't too loud, and even though I was as high as a kite, I managed to get to my room without tripping over anything. I flopped down on my bed and didn't even bother to get changed, instead passing out as soon as my face hit the pillow.

Tonight had been a good night.


	7. Chapter 6 - I'm With the Band

**'I'm With The Band'**

**( cgi/set?id=100345001)**

"We're gonna call the cops, young lady!" My stepfather was stumbling out of his armchair, slightly tipsy, to get to me. I backed up, trying at the same time to avoid my furious, stubborn mother. This morning I had woken up to screaming, and gotten dressed as quickly as possible. I hated the fact that there wasn't a window in my room – otherwise that would have been how I got out of the house every morning.

"I can't believe you, Katherine Jane Welsh! We haven't seen you in a WEEK!" My mother was holding a rolling pin in one hand to threaten my father with, and a spatula in the other. I had vivid memories of Cookie hitting Chip over the head at Kim's house – I didn't want to be hit upside the head by my own mother. That would just add another offense to the list of problems this family had.

"It's not my fault I don't wanna stay here! You guys are drunk all the time!" I yelled back at them, taking my saddlebag off of the counter and preparing to leave the house. "I've had enough, y'know?! Fuck both of you!"

I was just about to exit through the run-down front door with fucked up hinges and that stupid decoration on the front, when I felt a tug on my shirt, and then I was thrown to the ground. I squawked in surprise, and then hissed as I landed hard on my back. My stepfather's face loomed over me amidst my mother's yells. She had disappeared into the bedroom and slammed the door, screaming about how this family was too 'chaotic' for her. I growled and tried to get Rick to release my hair, but his hand wasn't giving up.

"Let go of me, you bastard!" I screeched and tugged side to side, the back of my head erupting in pain.

"You little bitch. You're gonna break up this whole family." Rick growled and pulled me up by my shirt. My limbs were now flailing uncontrollably at him, my rage taking over my actions. I could smell the alcohol on him; every breath that hit my face was like taking a real shot of tequila.

"You already did! You're a DIRTBAG! I HATE YOU!" Pulling back my fist with all my might, I swung as hard as I could and hit Rick square in the jaw. He grunted in pain, stumbling a step backwards, and then retaliated with a punch that I wasn't prepared for. He hit me right in the solar plexus with a force that I couldn't reckon with. The bottom line was that he was a man – he was intoxicated and had a bigger body mass than me, and at this point I was screwed because I was vomiting all over the floor.

"You fucking brat! Watch the shoes!" My stepdad barked and gave me one more shove against the door for good measure. "If you ever do that again," he pointed a finger in my face. "I'm gonna call the cops on you."

I wiped my mouth and refused to meet his eye. "If _you_ ever do that to _me _again, I'm gonna call the cops on _you_."

"Excuse me?" Rick leaned down to my level almost teasingly. "You already did. And you know how that turns out."

"Yeah, and I'm just gonna keep calling them and calling them until your fatass gets caught!" I swung my saddlebag at the side of his head as hard as I could, making him go stumbling into the table. Seeing my chance, I sprinted to the door and threw it open, knowing that Daniel would be waiting with his car on the other side.

I heard the door open just as I had gotten off the front porch, and my stepfather stumbling behind me. I had really done a number on him with my bag. Seeing Daniel's car parked about ten meters away, I put all of my remaining efforts into dashing towards it.

"You fucking stupid cunt!" Rick was yelling, and thankfully his screams had finally grabbed Daniel's attention. He fired up the engine just as I jumped over into the passenger side. He pulled away as fast as possible, tires screeching, and I felt Rick kick the side of his car. "You're a worthless failure, you whore!"

I growled wordlessly. I had had enough of Rick for today. I flipped around in the passenger seat of Daniel's car and gave my stepfather two middle fingers. "FUCK YOU!" I screamed at the top of my lungs, flopping back into my seat and still panting heavily from the adrenaline. Daniel said nothing.

This wasn't the first time he'd seen Rick like this.

* * *

It was the lunch period, which meant that I was going to have to eat, no matter how much pain my stomach was in. I hadn't seen Kim anywhere today, so I assumed that she was cutting and hadn't told us. It would have been nice to have her here so that I could rant to her, but Daniel would have to do. He had been supportive enough on the drive to school anyway.

"Make sure you get somethin' to eat." He mumbled while we were in the lunch line. When Daniel and I hung out there wasn't a lot of talking unless there was a problem. Our friendship didn't rely on communication as much as I would have liked it to, but it was nice to have someone to sit beside in total silence and know that neither of you had to say anything, yet there was a connection. And understanding. It clearly wasn't like that with my 'parents'.

I sullenly picked out chocolate milk and some fruit, deciding to ignore the hunger in my stomach. I hadn't eaten breakfast because of the fiasco this morning, and my appetite after what had happened had completely diminished.

We acquired our food and then found Nick, Lindsay, Ken and Sean at our table. We began to eat, but were interrupted when Millie and Colin, dressed in ridiculous outfits, came to advertise the school play. These two were always the stars of the school's productions, Millie being a mathlete and the perfect Christian model student, while Colin was a virgin who couldn't drive and liked to pretend he could act.

"Hi everyone! If you're just a boy or girl who can't say 'no'…" Millie started, letting Colin, the other geeky drama student, carry on.

"Then you won't be able to say 'no' to tickets to the McKinley High Drama club's presentation of…" He waited for someone to ask.

"What?! What?!" Nick's unenthusiastic response prompted Colin to answer his question.

"OKLAHOMA!" Him and Millie grinned.

"Oh, no way!" I joined in, beginning to feel a bit better. Making fun of all of these kids and how stupid they could be made me feel better about myself. It made me feel like I wasn't so bad after all. The bruises on my stomach and sides suddenly seemed to disappear while I laughed at the two kids at the front of the lunchroom.

"So come on down, partner, but leave the ducks and geese at home!" Colin smiled at us. I wanted to smack him out of his stupid costume – I didn't think that these two idiots knew what they were doing to themselves standing in the front of the cafeteria dressed like two rednecks from the 1800s.

"And oh, what a beautiful evening you'll have! Yeehaw!" Millie delivered the final blow, and then hobbled out of cafeteria with a weird interpretive dance. I scoffed and returned to my fruit. Now, at the thought of it, I would've definitely liked to punch Millie out of her stupid wig and costume, too.

"Alright, tickets are two dollars at the box office! Don't miss it! It's a great show!" Mr. Kowcheski finished, and we were finally at peace to finish our lunch.

"Hey, you'd look good in that dress." Nick smiled at Lindsay. I snorted into my chocolate milk, but Sean gave me a shove. This was the first time that Sean had sat with us this week – he usually cut class to go and snort coke or whatever he did when he wasn't deliberately trying to fail at school.

"Thanks." Lindsay muttered.

"Hey, you guys wanna rehearse today?" Nick asked the other three boys sitting at the table. For a while, him, Ken, Sean and Daniel had been jamming together in Nick's basement with his ridiculous 29-piece drum set. They weren't very good, to say the least, but with some encouragement and practice they could get better. The problem was that neither Kim nor I were very keen on telling them that they needed to do more work. We both knew how that would turn out.

"Oh, is this your guys' rock band?" Lindsay was curious to know more about it. I could almost see her disgusted face when she saw them play tonight.

"Yeah, we've gotta audition for battle of the bands comin' up – winner gets three hundred bucks!" Nick fist pumped with his band mates, and I tried to keep myself from rolling my eyes again. I could think of less time consuming things that I could get three hundred dollars from, all of which involved men's genitals.

"I bet you guys are really good." Lindsay smiled encouragingly. I snorted once again, and Daniel gave me a dirty look.

"No, I don't think so." Sean shook his head earnestly. I nodded my head in agreement. Daniel made a face and threw a napkin at Sean.

"Do you guys have a name?"

"Yeah – 'Creation'." Nick leaned back in his seat and beamed, as if he was proud that he was the creator (pun intended) of a band that sucked.

"No, we don't have a name." Daniel smiled patronizingly at Lindsay, ignoring Nick. They had debated about several names over the past couple of months, but naturally they couldn't agree on anything. Nick was all hung up over the name 'Creation', but Daniel hated it. Sean wanted to name the band something to do with Death, and of course Ken didn't care whatsoever.

"Come on," Nick complained. "I liked that name."

But Daniel said nothing.

"Alright," Nick gave in. "Anyway – three o'clock?"

"No – I gotta do something with Kim at three." Daniel shook his eat and continued to eat his strange orange dessert.

"Hey!" Ken hit Daniel on the shoulder. "How about three o one?"

"How about three fifteen?" Daniel took another bite and frowned at Ken. "I gotta fit in your mother."

I laughed heartily, glad that I had a circle of friends who could make me laugh.

"You wanna sleep with my mom?" Ken apparently had thought that Daniel was serious.

"Mhm." Daniel nodded, pretending to be completely honest. I shook my head, still smiling, and went to dump my unfinished lunch out in the garbage. Unfortunately, I had chosen the same time to stand up as Vicky and her awful table of cheerleaders. They enjoyed making me feel like a piece of shit, and while I didn't appreciate it, there was nothing I could do when I was surrounded by six girls who were all wearing the exact same outfit and had the exact same mean insults. I just had to stand there and take the blows.

Which was what was going to be happening soon enough if I didn't move my ass. I quickly maneuvered my way through a crowd of students and had just dumped my food away when I heard the first nasty words fly out of Vicky's mouth.

"Oh look, the freak didn't eat anything today, either."

I closed my eyes, begged on my friends to hear my prayers, and turned around. There was a tiny army of cheerleaders forming a semi circle around me, cornering me between them and the garbage. It was like a mini wall of China. I didn't want to have anything to do with them, and I tried to put on a brave face while I waited for Daniel to notice that I was gone. He usually picked up on these things quickly enough.

"Maybe she's anorexic."

"She's looking pretty skinny - skin and bones, actually. At least she's not fat - you don't want to get fat, do you?"

"Maybe it's better if you don't eat anything. Huh, freak?"

"You're so weird."

I frowned and simply placed my hands in my pockets, staring down at the ground. I didn't want to do anything stupid and get suspended, so I simply decided to take the beating and ignore whatever they were saying. Sadly, because of my low self-esteem and my terrible morning, my emotional durability was waning, and after just a few more of these brutal insults, I felt tears well up in my eyes.

"Please, leave me alone." I muttered, weakly trying to push past them to get to my table. Vicky blocked me.

"No, we're not done talking, freak!" She hissed. I blinked twice and backed off, afraid of her relentless behaviour. This wasn't like my stepfather – I knew how to handle him, but here there were people watching…and consequences for my actions. I had to pay attention. Just as I was about to debate screaming out for help, my saving grace arrived.

"Hey," Daniel pushed past Cindy and Vicky to get to me, wrapping an arm around my shoulders and dragging me out of the crowd. "C'mere."

We walked back to the table, where everyone had reassumed normal conversation and didn't heed any attention to us arriving. Daniel plopped me down on a chair and sat beside me. It took mere minutes for me to start crying. I abhorred Vicky and her futile friends. It was completely unfair for an entire group of girls to pick on just me. Why did they think it was okay to bully someone who had never done a thing to them?

Daniel rubbed my back, but said nothing. He detested anyone who thought that they were hot shit, so naturally the cheerleaders fell under his 'condemned' category.

"Kim," I sniffled pathetically. "I want Kim."

"You wanna go find her?" Daniel heard my pleas. I nodded, and we took off. I smiled a shaky goodbye to the rest of my friends, and really started to cry once we exited the cafeteria doors. The cruelty of some of the girls at this school really was astonishing. They didn't realize how vicious they were being. Naturally, it wasn't only Vicky that had brought on these gallons of tears. My stepfather had a fair bit to do with it. The traumatizing events from this morning plus the spiteful actions of Vicky and her gang weighed in on me like a ton of bricks. I was losing it – fast. My friends knew that I was strong only to a certain extent. My anxiety and my family life had affected my vigor, and my firmness had had a crack down the middle for a long time.

Once again, I felt the familiar feeling of nausea crawl up from the pit of my stomach. "Oh god." I muttered, placing a hand over my mouth and hindered my pace. "Stop."

"What? You gonna vomit?" Daniel pushed me towards the nearest dustbin, and upon arriving to it; I disgorged all of my lunch. A mix of chocolate milk and vegetables landed at the bottom, and the mere sight of the vomit made me heave again.

"Alright, you're fine. Don't worry. Just breathe – hey!" Daniel suddenly yelled out in the midst of comforting me and holding my hair back in a ponytail. "Hey, Kim!"

I heard fast footsteps approaching in the near empty hallway, and then someone else was holding my hair much more softly, whispering motherly words and rubbing my back in circles. "I didn't see you all morning, where were you?"

"I was gonna ask you the same question." I burped loudly and spit once into the trashcan, wiping my mouth for good measure. She smirked and didn't answer my question, eyeing Daniel instead. "Welsh, all this stomach acid is gonna tear off your throat."

"I should be fine as long as I have food in my stomach." I shook my head, remembering a chat with the doctor a couple months ago on this topic.

"Well, that's concerning because you barely eat." Daniel butted in, and Kim shoved him away. I tried to laugh as we resumed walking down the hallway at a much slower pace. My tastebuds were going through torture – I felt like I was going to puke again just from the taste of vomit in my mouth. I stopped at the water fountain and took huge gulps until I knew that I was going to need to go the bathroom for the next hour.

"Katherine, you're coming tonight, right?"

"To what?" I wiped my mouth of excess water and looked over at Kim curiously.

"Band practice." Daniel filled in.

"Oh, yeah. I'll come." I nodded. It wasn't like I had anything else to do tonight. I certainly wasn't going to go back home, and if there were anyone that I would want to stay with tonight it would have been my friends. My mind replayed the scene with my stepfather from this morning. I cringed and remembered his yells as Daniel and I had sped away in his gaudy orange car. I couldn't imagine going back to the house and seeing what a mess it was. It was almost like my 'parents' drunken façade was completely normal to them, and I was a constant interruption and a problem.

I was a dilemma.

* * *

I let out another huff of smoke and rolled my eyes, trying to ignore the awful music coming from Nick's basement. Thankfully there was a door leading to his backyard where I could enjoy my cigarette in peace – well, what peace there was, anyway.

I heard Ken 'sing' the final chords to the song, and I let out a long breath. I heard Kim scream and shout words of praise, and then silence. I heard Lindsay say a couple things, and then footsteps down the stairs. Mr. Andopolis was home. I made a face and put out my cigarette, making sure to cover it in a good amount of dirt before proceeding my way inside. I found everyone except for Nick and Lindsay making there way up the stairs.

"Come on, Katherine, we're going to get food!" Kim called. I gave a wave to Nick and Lindsay, and followed my friends up the stairs.

We drove to the drive-thru where Sean worked; consequently getting us free food and drinks. Sean complained that we had to at least buy one drink; otherwise his less than understanding manager would catch him. Daniel reluctantly handed over the two dollars. We sat in the booth at the corner, discussing movies and music for awhile, until the topic shifted to the band.

"Yeah, I don't really see us going anywhere." Sean nervously flitted his eyes around to the rest of us.

"Nick seems really into it, though." Ken shrugged.

"But it's either this or the army for Nick."

"Yeah," I agreed, butting in with a rhetorical thought. "And which one do you think he's gonna choose?"

"The one that he'll never get to." Daniel snorted, obviously doubting Nick's potential or drive to get better.

"Well, if he works hard enough and actually takes some lessons he could be pretty good." I twirled a French fry with my finger, and tried to imagine Nick actually attending lessons for something he cared about.

"Speaking of lessons, I need to give you a lesson on how to eat. This is your first meal in like, days." Kim grabbed a handful of French fries and shoved them in my face. I squealed in surprise and did the same for her, elapsing us into a mini food battle.

A couple minutes later, we were joined by both Nick and Lindsay, who, much to Sean's displeasure, forced him to get them free eats as well. He hesitantly made his way into the employee's section and disappeared once again.

"So guys, I was thinking, we should rehearse again sometime soon." Nick's eager smile and nod just made me want to grin myself, even if I knew that I had French fries stuck in between my teeth. I gulped some of Kim's coke down, regretting not having ordered a water, and brought my attention back to the conversation at hand.

"Practice again?" Ken frowned.

"Yeah, it can't hurt." Daniel agreed, sliding his arm around Kim and finishing the last of his burger.

_It 'can't hurt' 'cause you guys suck._

* * *

"No practice today?" I slid into Kim's vehicle, bag in tow, and gazed questioningly at my friends.

"Nope, we're going down to Al's." Daniel responded.

"Al's?" I wrinkled my nose. The last I had heard of Al's junkyard the police had shut it down because of gang-related activity. Apparently it was up and running again, because we had to go pick up a carburetor for Kim's gremlin.

"If Ken isn't here in five minutes, we're leaving." Kim huffed.

"Aren't you his ride home?" I laughed, picking at my nails and putting my feet up on the back of Kim's seat. I got an angry eye roll and decided to shut up. Ken finally did arrive, much to Kim's displeasure, and we took off in a hurry to get downtown.

"Okay, you guys know that Al's is a mess – so you have to help me look." Kim glared at me in the review mirror, and I gave her a saucy smile. She knew that I wasn't one to immediately jump and help out given any circumstances.

"Don't worry, we'll find one in no time." Daniel assured her, and we hopped out to look for the godforsaken carburetor.

I heaved a sigh and looked around what seemed like endless miles of car junk, wondering where in the hell we could find a carburetor. Why didn't Al sort his shit? I groaned and split off in a separate direction as the rest of my friends, hoping to smoke in peace and look for the stupid hunk of metal in the meanwhile. I lit up and continued my path once I lost sight of Daniel, Ken and Kim.

* * *

The next band practice was just as awful as the first. The bass was atrocious, the guitar was just plain awful and I couldn't say anything for Ken's vocals besides the fact that they would have cleared out an entire stadium instead of had them chanting for him. It was like Alice Cooper's first days all over again – they were dreadful. As they finished the song, Nick stood up with a somber face. Out of the corner of my eye I saw Lindsay give him a subtle shake of her head.

"Hey, uh, listen guys. That wasn't very good. Let's try it again." He reprimanded.

"What?" Ken stared at the drummer behind him in awe. In all of the bands' sessions, no one had ever suggested that they repeat a song.

"Let's, uh, let's try _Sunshine of Your Love_ again." Nick repeated.

"Well, we just played it man, why would we do it again?" Daniel turned to face Nick.

"'Cause, uh, it wasn't right, man. It was really sloppy, and it didn't really sound anything like the record."

Well, he had a good point there.

"I don't care what the record sounds like, okay? We play it the way we play it." Daniel challenged his friend. I frowned.

"Are you still buying pot from the same guy?" Ken asked. I rolled my eyes. We both knew that Mark was the only accessible dealer that we knew of in our entire district.

"You mean me?" Sean joked.

"Look, you guys, I just wanna play the song right, y'know?" Nick seemed sincere, and considering none of the other band members had parents who ran a tight ship like Mr. Andopolis, they weren't going to take this 'band' thing as seriously as he did.

"Look, any way that we play is the right way."

"Not if we wanna get into battle of the bands -" Nick protested.

"I could give a crap about battle of the bands! Who cares?" Daniel yelled, interrupting him. Nick looked slightly crestfallen, before turning to Lindsay.

"You were right, Lindsay."

Daniel turned to her, eyes growing wider. "Right about what?"

Lindsay looked slightly reluctant to tell, but with six pairs of eyes on her she seemed to slowly give in. I raised a brow. It was amazing what peer pressure could do, and at this moment I was glad for it. I really wanted to hear what she wanted to say; perhaps she was finally going to admit to Nick's band that they sucked.

"Please, do tell." Ken spoke into the microphone.

"Look – I'll tell you." Nick broke in. "It's that you guys don't care. Maybe you're just screwing around, but I – I want us to be good, y'know? I'm tired of sucking at everything in my life! And I wanna nail that audition, alright? But we're not gonna nail the audition unless we play the songs over and over and over again until they're perfect. Alright, Daniel?" Nick left an emphasis on Daniel's name. "So can we play the song right? Once?"

Daniel didn't respond, only gazed at his friend with an expression I couldn't place. Lindsay seemed to be trying to disappear into herself; something that I had to admit I'd tried to do before. I was familiar with the feeling of being the bringer of unfortunate and factual news. Reality sucked. Nick's band sucked. The truth hurt, but secrets hurt even more.

"Please? Alright?" Nick repeated, and with an 'Alright, let's play the stupid song', Daniel began to play the first few chords.

"Hey! Hey ,hey, hey! Did you hear any sticks, man? Wait for my sticks, alright?" Nick nearly exploded.

"Gee, this is really fun, guys. I'm glad we have a band." Ken's sarcastic tone made Lindsay shrink into her seat even further, and his thumbs up didn't help.

They began to play again, and I had to admit, it wasn't as bad as the first time around. It was a bit more relaxed and mellowed down, but at least it didn't sound like cows stuck in a meat grinder. Kim yawned, and I began to pick my nails. It didn't sound anything like Cream, but it was definitely better than the first go.

"Wow, that sucked." Sean snorted.

"Royally." Ken agreed.

"No, hey! It sounded better!" Nick rose from his stool.

"Yeah," Lindsay agreed. "It really did sound better."

"Oh, did it, _Lindsay?_" Daniel sneered. "Do you approve?"

"Come on, Daniel." Lindsay scoffed.

"I'm outta here." Daniel grumbled and began to put away his guitar.

"You're a piece of work, Lindsay." Kim hit Lindsay on the shoulder and followed Daniel.

"Daniel, where're you going?" Nick asked.

"Anywhere."

"We need to rehearse more, Daniel!" Nick yelled, making me jump.

"No, you needa rehearse more!" Daniel's slight New Jersey accent began to come out, an indication of his frustration. "We needa get outta here."

"I hate this song now, we've played it like, 6 times. I never wanna hear it again." Ken complained.

"It sounded better." Nick tried as a last resort.

"Who cares, man?" Sean butt in, his bass still hanging from his shoulders. "We're in a paneled basement, not the silver dome."

"You know, you and _Yoko_ here," Daniel motioned to Lindsay. "Are turning music into school. What are you gonna do, start handing out band homework?"

"I just wanna play the song right Daniel!" Nick's tone increased. Tension was rising; Nick was getting truly irked. Sean had a good point, though. There was no way that this band was going to make it – ever. As hard as they could try, these four boys didn't have the motivation, skill or initiative to become good enough. I always liked to think that skill was really important – it wasn't being famous that mattered, it was being good. Good enough that people valued and recognized you for it. That, to me, was what fame was.

"Then go join the marching band, geek." Kim scoffed, picking up her jacket and standing beside Daniel. I moved to get off the couch as well, craving a cigarette.

"You know what, shut up! At least the marching band can play something right at least twice in a row!"

"You are a dumbass, Andopolis." Daniel stated. "Rock and roll don't come from your brain; it comes from your crotch. And if you ever got any, Mr. Cute shorts, you'd know that. Let's get outta here. I quit." He wrapped an arm around Kim and proceeded up the stairs.

"Guess that means I quit." Ken left the singer's podium, and Sean packed up his bass to go.

"Fine! Fine, quit! You're not even good enough to be in 'Creation'!" Nick yelled, throwing his drumsticks and making a tiny scene. Lindsay didn't say anything, and I felt that I should leave the two alone, so I got up and gathered my things.

"Nick, I hope that things work out – that song didn't sound like microwaved shit the second time around." I gave him a sorry smile and followed my friends up the stairs.

* * *

"Yeah, no, I'm serious, guys. I think my mom wants to come see the band play or something."

"When she gets outta rehab?" Daniel smirked.

"Oh, shut up!" Kim laughed. I grinned and huffed smoke out of my nostrils, not noticing Lindsay and Nick walk up beside our group until everyone started clapping. I joined in, my cigarette resting between my lips.

"Hey! Ringo Starr!" Daniel applauded.

"You finally got your wish, Nick! You're a good a drummer as John Bonham! Of course, he's dead." Ken declared.

"You should've seen the looks on those guys' faces' though man, I think I ruined their love of music forever." Nick laughed. It was good that he was getting over his negative experiences; I was glad that he was feeling better. Perhaps things were starting to work out after all. Unfortunately, I couldn't say the same thing for myself.

"Hey," Sean looked up at Nick. "Is _Demention _gonna charge you for the pee stain you left on their drum seat?"

"Shut up." Daniel slapped him lazily on the cheek, effectively silencing him. "Hey man, _Demention _sucks anyway. I saw 'em open up for _Toll_ – they good booed off the stage."

"Thanks a lot, man." Nick fist-bumped with Daniel.

They began to discuss new songs that they could play together, and I smiled at the thought that things were fully patched up. Kim suddenly raised and declared that she had to take a piss, and I raised one brow as I watched her and Lindsay take off together. Most likely to talk about Lindsay and Nick's hookup. Nick had had Daniel, Sean, Ken, Kim and I over last night to iron out some details – mostly about him and Lindsay. I wasn't took interested in their relationship, but it seemed Kim cared quite a bit more than I did. I shrugged and tried to pay attention to Nick complaining about the Ramones' chords, but there was an uncomfortable feeling in the pit of my stomach that wouldn't wash away.

Nausea.

I started to gag silently, cigarette still in hand. I couldn't say anything, simply go along with the back and forth movement of my throat. I inhaled through my nostrils, and focused on trying to soothe the vomit building up in my stomach. Daniel finally noticed my head rearing back and forth like a dog getting ready to blow out it's stomach.

"Katherine?"

I grimaced and looked up at him, my head still moving back and forth – my throat making awful gagging noises by now. I felt my stomach contracting, and finally it gave out. I leaned away from the four other boys to puke over the side of the table, the pile of barf landing on the grey pavement of the patio.

"Oh, Jesus." I could almost hear the cringe in Ken's facial expression.

I spit once into the pile, and then calmly reassumed my smoking. Eight eyeballs bored into my face with concern, but I paid them no mind and kept on inhaling my dose of nicotine, keeping my expression hard and stoic. I only glanced at the cigarette a couple of times to observe the tiny fire going on inside the King-sized Marlboro stick.

"Katherine."

My head snapped to the sound of Daniel's voice.

"You're not okay." He confirmed.

I shook my head from side to side in agreement, once again blowing out smoke through my chapped lips.

I was most definitely, absolutely, anything but okay.


	8. Chapter 7 - Carded and Discarded

**'Carded and Discarded'**

**( cgi/set?id=100628513)**

"There's two ways you can look at anything in this life. Take my job, for instance. I could get up every morning and go: 'Ugh, I don't wanna get up and go help a bunch of kids – I'm tired' – but I don't! I get up, and I put on my shirt and tie, and I say; 'Hot dog! Lemme at 'em'!" Mr. Rosso had sat the 'burnouts' down for a bit of a wake up call at 8:30 AM this morning, which resulted in him basically giving us a speech on how you needed to look forward to things in life, not dread them. This was NOT how I wanted to spend my morning; I had missed my chance to have my morning smoke, and that was not something that I was content about.

"You actually say the words, 'Hot dog'?" Ken questioned. I smiled into the palm of my hand, trying to balance the bouncing of my leg. I hadn't gotten very good sleep lately, and as a result my nerves were acting up. I was also craving more nicotine, which Kim decided she had to furiously control.

"Yes, I do. I know you're struggling." Mr. Rosso brought us back to the point of 'struggles', which quite frankly I didn't want to hear about at this point. "That's what they made guidance counselors for! To help you!"

Kim was twiddling around with her earrings, not seeming nervous at all. Lindsay was looking completely out of it, Nick was somewhat interested, and Daniel had an expression on his face like he could already predict where this conversation was going to go.

"I know you've just been through puberty," Mr. Rosso continued, making me roll my eyes. "You guys are tall – I'm surprised you've even fit through that door! A lot of the times you might see, you're taking a shower, you look down and you go: 'what are these? What's that?'"

Lindsay tried to squeeze herself further into her jacket, and I turned my snort into a cough. This was getting uncomfortable – if he stayed on this topic any longer I may have considered putting a finger down my throat just to get out of his office.

"But you feel confused, and alone." Mr. Rosso disregarded my noises. "And you don't think anyone understands. Well, I do. Lot's of people do. Even…Mr. Alice Cooper." Mr. Rosso pulled out his guitar. "Bet you don't think he's a square, do ya?"

"Naw, man. Alice Cooper rocks." Nick nodded his head. I frowned, suddenly worried for my eardrums. I hadn't heard Mr. Rosso play before, and in between Nick's band and those awful band practices at lunch, I didn't think that my head could take anymore lame attempts at 'music'.

Surprisingly, when he started to play he wasn't all that bad. 'Eighteen' by Alice Cooper had definitely seen better days, but Mr. Rosso wasn't an awful singer, and he paid the song enough justice. Undoubtedly though, there would have been homeless people begging for money with their guitars that could have played the song better.

"You guys know what I'm talking about? Is this making any sense to you? I think it is!" Mr. Rosso continued to play until the bell rang.

"Oh my god." Kim groaned as soon as we were let out of the office.

"That was brutal." Daniel agreed.

"I've never hated Alice Cooper as much as I do right now." Ken seemed to be in a trance.

"Guys, Mr. Rosso's really good at the guitar…some of those chords are really hard!" Nick had a good point, but I just scoffed.

* * *

"You know, every old person thinks they're so smart." Daniel complained later on the Patio, moving his sleeves down his arms from the cold. "What, there's like no dumb old people?"

Kim laughed, and I huffed in agreement. That was true. There had to be tons of older people out there who were just plain stupid. It seemed like every teacher at this school thought that they were smarter not because they had gone to college and gotten a job but because they were simply older than we were. It was complete bullshit.

"I just wanna be older so I can go to bars." Ken proclaimed from his spot behind Daniel and Kim. He'd been gazing at the sky silently for the past couple of minutes, just lying on the table with his hands behind his head. "Everything fun in this world happens at bars."

"Yeah, man, I hear there's this kick-ass band, _Feedback_, playing at the Rusty Nail tomorrow night, but they're gonna card, so I mean," Nick shrugged in frustration. "What can I do?"

"Hm," Kim smirked up at me. "Maybe Katherine and I will go."

"Oh, you guys better shut up." Nick huffed. Kim and I laughed. I blew my smoke out in his direction and grinned. "Just 'cause you've got a fake ID's don't go lording it out of the rest of us."

"You guys have fake ID's?" Lindsay's mouth fell open.

"Yeah, you wanna check it out?" Kim handed Lindsay her ID, which had been her cousin's old driver's license. It looked identical to Kim, so of course she had no problems getting into clubs or bars. Mine had been almost the same deal, besides the fact that it was from Sean's older brother. He had moved away a couple years ago, but I had snagged him just in time to create the perfect ID with my picture in it. Chris had perfected the art of plagiarism, one of the factors that got him into the counterfeit business, which was one of the reasons he was serving jail time at the moment.

"Wow! It looks exactly like you!" Lindsay's eyes widened at Kim's ID. "But it says you're twenty four."

"So?" Kim snagged her ID back. "I look mature. Nobody ever stops me." She looked down at her photo in concern and then put it back in her wallet.

"What about you, Katherine?"

I held my cigarette in between my lips and frowned, searching my pockets for my godforsaken ID, which I always seemed to be misplacing.

"That's you!" Lindsay's eyebrows rose. I nodded my head back and forth. "B – how…?"

"He was a really legit guy." I smirked, taking my ID back and slipping it in my wallet. I didn't want to lose it in one of my jackets again. Lindsay nodded, as if to say 'cool'.

"Hey Daniel, do you have one?"

We all laughed, remembering the time when we had tried to get into a bar but Daniel had forgotten his star sign. "Some stupid bouncer asked what my star sign was." He grumbled. "I didn't know so he snagged it."

"Awww." Nick didn't seem pitiful whatsoever.

"Capricorn - Cancer...Capricorn!" I imitated his panicked reaction at the bouncer's question, making my friends laugh again.

"I hate astrology. What, everyone born in the same month's gonna have the same life?" Daniel made a face.

"Hey you guys," Lindsay leaned in, like she had a secret. "We should get fake ID's and go see _Feedback_!"

"Howie Gilfand sells fake ID's, but they cost a ton of money – I don't got that kinda cash." Nick shook his head.

"Well, it just so happens that…I came into a little bit of cash." Lindsay smiled slyly. "I could lend you guys some."

"Well, well, well. I'm likin' her more and more every day!" Ken proclaimed.

"Join the club." Nick smiled and wrapped an arm around his…girlfriend? Their status was unconfirmed – they had more of a mutual understanding than a relationship.

"Gross." Ken turned away, and we laughed. It was almost like a joke that Nick and Lindsay were together now – I didn't know how to describe it, but we hadn't found anyone who could put up with Nick's escapades. The last person had been his current ex - Heidi Henderson - and we didn't talk about that anymore.

* * *

"So, going to the Rusty Nail with Nick…" Kim elbowed Lindsay on our walk home after school. Our group had somehow separated - the three boys in the back and us girls in the front.

"This is gonna be like your first real date, huh?" I smiled from her other side.

"I dunno, not really. I mean we're not going out or anything." Lindsay smiled.

"Yeah, but you're definitely more than friends." Kim smirked. I smiled at the thought of my friends actually being happy together for once, and took another drag from my cigarette.

"Yeah, I don't know." Lindsay smiled and looked back at Nick. It was nice to see the expression on someone's face when they realized they really liked someone. "And we only kissed once. It's not a big deal."

Kim and I both raised our eyebrows, not believing her for one second.

* * *

"Congratulations everybody," Howie Gilfand handed Daniel, Ken, Lindsay and Nick ID's. "You're all of age."

"Who the hell is 'Jesus H. Garcia'?" Ken lifted up his new license in question.

"Is _H-_esus. It's your new identity." Howie corrected. "Tell me that picture doesn't look like you."

"This picture doesn't look like me, man." Ken deadpanned. I peeked at his license and began to giggle, trying not to set anything on fire with my cigarette. I leaned back and lay on the picnic table, listening to the rest of my friends become disappointed with their licenses until finally Daniel demanded a refund. At first Howie resisted, but once Nick and Daniel stood to their full height in front of him he backed down.

He gave back the cash, but Ken was the only one who didn't hand in his ID. "You know what," He smiled. "I think I'm gonna keep this. I think I can pull off Jesus, here."

"Finally!" Howie exclaimed. "A sane man." He turned to me. "How about you, pretty lady? You need anything?"

I sat up from my position on the table, pulling the cigarette away from my lips. "I'll be doing just fine without your services."

Howie nodded, and advertised his store before taking off with the rejected ID's.

"Wait, that's it?" Lindsay looked crestfallen. "We don't have ID's, and the band's playing tonight!"

"That's my only connection." Daniel shrugged.

"Yeah, I don't know anybody."

"The last guy that gave me my ID is in prison." I made a face, realizing I wasn't helpful. Lindsay gave me a wide-eyed look before realization cross her face.

"Wait…" She seemed the tiniest bit reluctant to exclaim the fact she was holding in. "I think I might."

* * *

I hated biology. I hated every single minute of it. I hated everything that we did, I hated the fact that I couldn't understand the material, and I hated the stupid class itself. The teacher was mean, picking on the kids that didn't understand what was going on, and didn't support anyone who was struggling. I hated the fact that I couldn't sit next to my friend, and that my lab partner was a total bitch. At least she was smart.

"Okay, since I'm assuming you _didn't _do your homework," My lab partner, Abigail, smirked at me in distain. I could almost feel the disapproval rolling off in waves. "I'll do the hard part."

What a bitch. I hated that she was smart and actually understood everything, while I was stuck watching her do equations and pretending like I knew what was going on. I glanced at Daniel at the back of the classroom, who had gotten paired with Harrison – quite possibly the nicest and most easily manipulated person on the planet. Daniel was a lucky little shit.

"Come on, Katherine." Abigail snapped. "The least you could try to do is actually pay attention."

I turned back to my unfortunate lab partner and sighed, feeling a lump in the back of my throat. It wasn't fair for her to be cruel to me, just because I didn't understand. I didn't want to ask her questions about how things worked – she would just become a monster that hated me for no apparent reason. It wasn't my fault that I had certain aspects of my life that completely distracted me from school. I couldn't help it that I lived in a dump with an alcohol stepfather and a mother that just didn't care about anything anymore.

"Oh for Christ's sake, what is it?" Abigial snorted loudly, seeing the tears in my eyes. I turned my head away and bit my lip, trying to force the scene away. But the water pools just wouldn't back down. It was like trying to blow cocaine out of your nose after you'd snorted three lines; it was too late.

"What," She continued in a mocking tone. "Am I too _tough_ for you?"

That did it.

I angrily picked up my bag and dumped my books in it, feeling a trail of wetness coming down my cheek. I wiped it away as I passed the teacher's desk, giving him an excuse about how I was having lady problems. I didn't even make it to the girl's washroom before I felt like vomiting. I gagged and stopped in the hallway, one hand flying up to cover my mouth. It took mere seconds for the second contraction of my throat to arrive. The nausea was terrible; it felt like I was going to explode if I didn't throw up.

Thankfully, Daniel arrived at just that moment. I heard his footsteps, and then his hands were pulling me along towards the bathroom. "Come on, let's go." His gentle hands pushed me inside the girl's lavatory, and then I was hurling.

I didn't remember much, just that I was feeling very anxious and it took a couple of seconds to Daniel to actually grab my head and place me over the toilet. I could barely hold on to the lid, and if my friend hadn't been there, I didn't know what I would have done. I vaguely recalled some girls coming in and saying something to Daniel, asking if I was drunk or what not.

I wished that I had been drunk. That would have been an improvement to the state that I was in. But the fact that my mind had done this to me; the fact that it was my anxiety that caused me to throw up, and my fears and secrets and hatred for myself that I had buried inside of me – it made me want to weep and sob for eternity.

And I started to do just that. I started to wail. I started to cry like a child that needed milk for the first time. It was like someone had opened the main water valve in my body, and all of the liquid was coming out of my eyes. Daniel, sensing that I was done vomiting and now moving into my post-vomit routine, flushed the toilet, pulled me off of it, and then sat me down on the ground. I flopped into his form, sobs wracking my body. I felt hopeless - lifeless. Like there was nothing left; I was done.

"You know," Daniel's chest rumbled as he spoke. "You can beat this."

Instead of acknowledging that I'd heard him I just cried harder. I felt pathetic. Worthless. Crazy. Wretched. Useless. Petty. Dumb. Pitiable. Miserable. Heartbreaking. Moronic. Foolish. Pitiful. Woeful. Asinine. Distressing. Inadequate. Meager. Insane. Senseless. I felt absolutely finished – like a stale loaf of bread you'd left in the pantry.

"You're gonna be okay."

* * *

After my sob fest, Daniel had recommended that I stay at his house for the time being. In the state that I was in, it was unlikely that I could go home and gain positive results for my poor feelings. It was almost like having a bruised brain; except that everything you did was affected by it. With a bruised shoulder or leg it didn't matter – you could do whatever you wanted and it wasn't that bad. But if your brain was bruised you couldn't think, you couldn't laugh and you couldn't smile. Everything was impaired.

So long story short (too late) I was staying at Daniel's house again. I had a feeling that after all these years, his mother had just left the door unlocked for a reason. Sometimes I wouldn't even tell Daniel that I was coming over, I'd just walk in and dump my things in his room.

Today, Daniel, Nick and Lindsay had gone out to Millie's cousin's house to purchase fake ID's for tonight's show. I hoped that they would be able to get them; otherwise we had a bit of a problem on our hands. I decided that I would try and get some homework done – science being my number one priority after that entire fiasco with Abigail Richardson.

I thought that I had understood the basics of the course, but I settled on reviewing the entire chapter just to be safe. It was nice to feel like I was actually accomplishing something. I read the first couple introduction chapters, going over what I thought we had covered at the beginning of the year. If I had a question, I turned to the glossary and found what I was looking for. It was easier than I had dreamed it to be; and it was strangely fascinating. I liked all the talk about compounds and bonds. Even though I didn't understand it all and I still had questions, stuff was starting to piece together.

Before I knew it, Daniel had arrived to pick me up, with Lindsay and Nick in tow. We were going to meet Kim and Ken at the bar, and hopefully – their new ID's would work like a charm. I took a look at them while we were driving to the Rusty Nail, and admired the work that had been done.

"He did a good job on them." I nodded my approval to Lindsay's photo.

"Yeah, at least I'm not Chinese this time." Daniel grinned.

"I dunno, Daniel, you're eyes look kinda small in that shot." I scoffed, and he hit me on the shoulder.

Once arriving at the bar, we met up with Ken and Kim and Lindsay spoke her worries about getting caught. Kim hushed her, assuring her that everything would be fine and to follow her lead. We approached the door. For Kim and I it was a cakewalk – we had done this a thousand times and never gotten caught. But it was a moment of truth for the rest of the gang.

"Hey Jimmy!" Kim smiled at the familiar bouncer.

"What's up?" I nodded at him, both of us making our way inside with no problem.

We saved two tables for our friends while we waited for them to show up, and I ordered a beer while I was at it. Unfortunately there was no smoking, so I had to settle with alcohol.

"Oh man, I'm excited." Nick smiled. I had to admit, after knowing what went on between these two at my table; it felt slightly awkward knowing that I was the third wheel. "You know, we wouldn't be here without you, so thank you." I hear Nick mutter to Lindsay.

I just drank my beer and tried to focus on _Feedback_'s entrance to the stage. Everything seemed fine and dandy, until I recognized the gnarly voice singing Alice Cooper's _Eighteen_.

"No." I muttered, putting my beer down and squinting at Mr. Rosso on the stage. That was definitely him, jumping around like he was twenty years old again. My friends stopped cheering and gazed on as if it was a bad dream.

"You've gotta be kidding me." I heard Kim say from the other table. I scoffed, laughed and tried to enjoy the show. Hopefully Mr. Rosso's gaze would pass over us and he wouldn't notice that the bar had been carding tonight. He went through a couple other songs, some of them being Velvet Revolver, Van Halen and Led Zeppelin.

"They're not bad!" Kim grinned over at me. I gave her a half smile and chugged the rest of my beer, gladly accepting the waitress's second delivering. Lindsay and Nick looked slightly reluctant to take their drinks, but the waitress didn't notice and placed them on the table anyway.

"Alright everybody, I've got a great group of hard working rocker's behind me. And I'd like to introduce them all to you. But, uh, first we've got some special guests in the audience I'd like to introduce…" Mr. Rosso turned to us. "All the way from McKinley High school."

_Goddamit. _

"We've got the key members of another smokin' band we'd like to call _Creation.._. Daniel Desario, Ken Miller, Nick Andopolis, Kim Kelly and their managers, Lindsay Weir and Katherine Welsh. Give 'em a big hand."

The rest of the bar clapped and cheered, waiting for Mr. Rosso to get on with the act. Suddenly he stopped the waitress from serving us any longer. "Woah, woah Sue, I can't let you serve our guests plain old _beer_, why don't you bring them some of your finest _pop_. On the house."

"Dammit." I muttered, picking up my glass before putting it in my coat and making my way to the bathroom. I would be damned if I was going to allow Mr. Rosso to stop me from indulging in my dose of alcohol tonight.

"Great," Nick huffed as I was walking away. "Just when I was starting to like that guy."

I made sure to get inside of one of the grimy bathroom stalls before finishing my second beer of the night. I should have suspected something like this to happen – at least I had gotten a moderate drink's worth of an evening. I blamed it all on Mr. Rosso.

What a waste.


	9. Chapter 8 - Girlfriends and Boyfriends

**'Girlfriends and Boyfriends'**

**( cgi/set?id=100691375)**

**A/N: The links are for polyvore, so if you want to see any of Katherine's outfits just go to the website and insert the cgi link! Enjoy! :)**

It was 10:30 AM, which meant we had 15 minutes before we needed to make the decision to either cut class or actually show up and not have Kowcheski on our case once again. It was a usual break – Daniel and Kim were arguing again, Lindsay was in deep conversation with Nick, Ken was staring off into space while spitting dandelion seeds, and I was smoking.

We reconvened after a couple minutes, and the topic shifted to Kim's crazy parents.

"Yeah, my stepdad's being such a little bitch. I can't believe my mom hasn't kicked him out yet. I swear he gets so drunk he's pissed himself twice in the last week." She whined.

"The worse thing my dad's done is make me work in his store." Lindsay made a face. "What about you, Katherine?"

I was quiet for a little bit, keeping my face hard. "I don't have a dad."

"Oh." Lindsay looked a little put out. "I'm sorry. What happened?"

I grit my teeth in frustration at the thought of my deceased father, the only one family member who had ever cared about me, nurtured me and loved me. I hated the fact that he had been disgusted with himself. He had been struggling with drugs for a long time, but he always had my best interests at heart. That was why I sill couldn't cope with the fact that he was gone. Sensing my discomfort, Kim jumped in to save me.

"He overdosed. Oxycontin."

I blew out the rest of my smoke and took a long last drag of my cigarette. Nobody said anything, but I locked eyes with Daniel and felt a certain comfort. It made me feel better to know that there were people willing to support me through what I thought was going to be one of the toughest periods of my life.

I tossed the cigarette butt to the ground and stomped on it with my heel, already beginning to feel the bile creeping around in my stomach, making it's way up my throat. I stalked over to the garbage can on the patio, and leaned on both sides of it with my hands just waiting for the vomit to come up. I didn't hear anyone resume conversation, and I assumed that they thought I was crying. Instead, I puked.

I didn't think that I'd ever prove anyone wrong by puking randomly.

"Oh, Katherine." I heard Kim jump off the table and come over to me, leading me to sit down on the bleachers next to the trash bin. She rubbed my back as I held my face in my hands and groaned. "You know, it's a relief that it doesn't come out the other end."

I raised my face and stared at her grinning face in disgust just as the bell rang.

* * *

"I'm really _really _sorry for bringing up your dad." Lindsay apologized for the third time while we walked to study hall.

"Lindsay, don't worry about it – really." I smiled at the shaken up girl, and we walked into class together. We had study hall, which was convenient because there were some things that I wanted to talk to her about. Mostly about math and geography, but I wanted to explain to her just what kind of a person Nick was. I wanted her to at least be prepared for the emotional toll that having a relationship with Nick held. He wasn't a person who could sleep comfortably at night knowing that his significant other was in their household - he would want to constantly be with them and feel comforted by them until finally, they got so sick of his clinginess that they left. I decided to not get involved in the situation and let it play out whichever way was meant to be.

We sat down at opposite sides of the long rectangular table, and pulled out our things. I actually hoped to get some work done today, but knowing myself and Daniel we could probably end up distracting each other and doodling all over each other's notebooks.

"Lindsay," I muttered, catching the other girl's attention. "Can you help me with math? I don't get this."

Lindsay put her book down and took a look at what I was working on. She explained to me how to apply the quadratic equation to the problem I was working with, and then the steps that I needed to complete it. I frowned, and managed to get to the point where I could stumble along and sort of understand the concept of my math homework, but I abandoned it halfway when Daniel came to the table to talk to Lindsay.

"I think it's really great that you and Nick are goin' out." Daniel elbowed Lindsay with a smile, trying to keep his voice down.

"Yeah, me too." Lindsay gave him a half smile and returned to her reading, but Daniel seemed to want to talk.

"No, I mean it – he's a great guy, we give him a hard time - but he's the man." He smiled, making Lindsay laugh. "I just think it's really great you guys are going out."

Lindsay just nodded again.

"He's a really great guy." Daniel repeated, still looking at her.

Lindsay looked at him sort of funny, and tried to keep reading. But Daniel's gaze was too strong to tear away from. She felt his eyes on her, and I watched the interaction with curiosity. What was Daniel doing? Sometimes even I was out of tune with his actions and thoughts.

"Nick's a stud. Y'know, he may not seem like it, but he is." Daniel leaned closer to Lindsay and grinned at her. I snorted into my textbook, leaning my head down. That was what all the suspension was for? 'Stud'? Really, Daniel? Nick couldn't come 100 miles close to the 'stud' category. He was dead centre of the 'stoner' category.

"Mr. Desario," Ms. Heets leaned down at our table and glared at Daniel. "Don't you have something to do?"

"Right, but I thought that we were going to do that after class, Ms. Heets." Daniel smiled and tapped his pencil on the desk, still laughing.

Ms. Heets let out a small huff. "Be still my beating heart."

"I like that dress." Daniel smirked as our pink teacher waltzed away.

Around halfway through study hall, I was getting bored with the homework that I didn't understand, and grabbed Daniel's notebook, switching it with mine. He didn't pay any consideration, merely using my notebook as his easel. I did the same, and began to draw an intricate, veiny penis that covered the entire page. After five minutes of intense sketching and lots of work on the testicles, I flipped it around to show it to my friend.

"Real mature, Welsh." Daniel snorted. "_Real _mature."

"Oh, what?" I held up his articulate drawing of a naked woman. "And this is mature?"

"Oh come on, I draw from the heart."

"No, you draw from the crotch." I pointed to my dick drawing. "In which case, I do too."

We both erupted into little giggling fits, which had Ms. Heets right behind us again within ten seconds. She warned us to be quiet, and I made a face behind her back. I detested her and her stupid frilly colourful dresses. Out of the corner of my eye I saw Lindsay regarding me wearily, but paid it no mind.

Daniel and I kept drawing in our notebooks.

* * *

"Come on, let's get outta here." Daniel had convinced Kim and I to cut class with him, deciding that we were going to go to our friend Des's tonight, who was visiting from Detroit. "Hey man," Daniel turned to Nick. "We're goin' to Des's tonight, are you comin'?"

"No actually, I'm hangin' out with Lindz." Nick wrapped his arm around his apparently new found girlfriend.

"Alright - make it happen!" Daniel grinned, his perverted thoughts infecting everyone else's.

"Tonight's the night." Kim egged on.

We all let out choruses and teased Lindsay a bit before disappearing up the stairs, leaving Nick and Lindsay on their own. "Call me tomorrow Lindsay, I wanna hear everything that happened!" Kim sang as her final goodbye.

"Alright, Des is having a kegger so we all needa pitch in." We slid into Daniel's car, Kim and I reluctantly handing over our ten dollars bills. "Katherine, try and tone it down tonight."

"I'm always toned down." I looked at Daniel through the review mirror, my gaze truthfully dishonest.

"Yeah, yeah. That's bullshit, and you know it."

Unfortunately, Daniel was right. When there was alcohol at a social gathering, I was bound to be there. My anxiety seemed to get worse in places that I didn't want to be, like school. But parties? Oh – my brain loved parties. The serotonin levels were completely fine with going to a house filled with druggies and lunatics, and partying until the break of dawn. That was exactly what I planned to do at Des's.

"Hey man," Des greeted us at the beer store, a couple packs of kids gathered in cars nearby. Kim went to talk to some of her friends from other schools. "How are you guys?"

"We're holdin' up just fine." Daniel smiled. "How's Detroit?"

"Messy." Des grimaced. "Too many gangs. It's pretty rough."

"Good parties?" I raised both eyebrows, my mind already planning to take a trip to Detroit sometime soon. It was only three hours away, but the tedious drive sounded worth it.

"Oh yeah." Des grinned, watching my face light up. "_Great _parties."

"Don't encourage her." Daniel scuffed him in the shoulder, both of them familiar with my drinking habits. We continued inside the beer store, a couple of tougher looking guys that I didn't recognize following us. I assumed that they were here to help us carry the keg.

We bought it, and I felt the tiniest bit helpful when I held open doors for the guys carrying the beer. It was nice to see them say thank you and smile at you – for a second I almost believed that we were carrying a barrel of something more innocent, but I was brought back to the real world when one of the guys pulled out a cigarette and started to yell at his girlfriend.

_Don't be silly. _My brain reminded me. _This is the reality; don't live in a fairy tale. _

As soon as we got to the house Des told everyone to make themselves at home while he unpacked. He had gotten back just this morning, meaning that he had to get a couple of things set up before people started showing up. A couple of guys turned on the TV, and I sorted through the refrigerator to make myself a sandwich. A friendly girl named Sally, also from Detroit, joined me in the kitchen. I greeted her with a smile, and we started to talk about school.

"Yeah," She made a face when I mentioned my unfortunate science class experience. "I don't think I'm really good for anything – I'm not smart."

"Me too. I feel so dumb when everyone else raises their hands and I don't know the answer."

"Yeah!" Sally exclaimed. "I hate that!"

"Or when you're writing a test," I hopped onto the kitchen counter, munching on my meal. "And everyone else's pencil's are moving but yours isn't."

Sally nodded with a sincere look on her face, leaning on the countertop. We both sighed heavily. The connection that we both lacked significant knowledge was daunting and scary. It showed that a lot of teens had this problem – and the teacher's weren't aware of it. Perhaps it was our fault for not having any ambition to ask questions. Or was it the faculty, for not becoming as involved as they should have been with the students? I believed that it was a combination of both.

Before I knew it, Sally was pulled away by her boyfriend, and people started to pile into the house for the party. Our little moment was over. Sometimes I wondered if people like Sally had the same issues that I did. There must have been someone out there who vomited everyday like me, right? I couldn't be the only one. I _refused _to be the only one. The epiphany that I may have been the only outlier appalled me. It would only make me more foreign to everyone else.

I felt so alone – so secluded and terrified at the moment that I didn't even have the urge to step out of the kitchen and grab a beer. I was shaken out of my reverie when Kim walked in to wash her hands.

"Hey," She frowned. "Aren't you gonna go get a drink?"

I nodded and hopped off the counter, proceeding to the living room and ignoring her weird glance at me. I ventured over to the keg, and filled a cup for myself. Tonight I was planning on completely disregarding discipline and getting as drunk as I wanted. Screw what Daniel said – I was past giving a tiny rat's ass.

* * *

It was midnight, and I was smashed out of my mind. Des had eventually broken out the stronger alcohol at around ten – the wine, Whiskey and Gin had gotten to my system quicker than I would have liked. I stumbled my way through the house, my vision sometimes focused and sometimes blurry. I felt hands grab at me, but I shook them off. I didn't know if it was just me, or my imagination, but the house seemed to have gotten more crowded. I swore that I could hear the front door opening and closing.

All of a sudden I felt a shove on my shoulder, and I nearly fell backwards from the force and my stupor. It had been someone abruptly running past me, obviously quite inebriated as well. Filled with liquid courage and anger, I spun around, grabbing the intruder by her long locks and pulling her back. She screeched, and I let go.

"Watch it, bitch!" I slurred, glaring into her ugly face. Her teeth were horrible, her hair was a mess and her makeup was smeared all over the place. Her awful projection may have also been the alcohol affecting my eyes, but last time I remembered gin didn't contain any hallucinogenic properties, and I was good at telling when I'd been drugged up.

"E-excuse me?" She nearly lost her footing, but re-aligned herself and literally pushed me this time, causing me to stumble again.

"You h-heard me, s-slut." I hiccupped. We were now face to face, angrily ogling at each other and occasionally holding onto random strangers to retain our balance.

"_You're_ c-calling me a s-slut?!" She threw the first punch. It hit me in the nose, and I winced, grabbing onto the couch to straighten myself out, coming at her and grabbing her hair. This little cunt wasn't going to hit me and get away with it. We fell onto the ground, both of us fighting for control. The crowd cleared to give us space, and I straddled her, repeatedly hurling my fists in a blinding rage. I didn't even know what I was hitting, but the fact that she was squealing and writhing in pain was enough for me. Unfortunately, she found the strength to push me over, and our positions were abruptly reversed. She was now flinging her arms at my face, and things just got blurrier and blurrier when she wouldn't stop. There were hits to my nose, chin, and forehead, and I could feel the blood begin to roll out of my nostrils. Just when I found the vigor to sit up, she popped me in the eye, and I was knocked back down.

I growled, becoming frustrated. My arms flew up from their trapped place under her legs, and I grabbed her by the arms. Pushing her off, me, I wacked her one final time on the side of the head, and then on the stomach. She bent over and vomiting all over the floor. I was just about to lung at her again, sensing her weakness, but I was violently pulled back.

Through my obscured senses I was able to recognize Daniel's arms and Kim's voice. I struggled a bit, pulling against them and yelling out profanities, but they were able to pull me safely away. Someone helped the other girl to the front door, and I was taken back to the kitchen. I didn't struggle. The adrenaline washed out of my senses, and I was just left with the inebriation. Liquid courage only lasted for so long before you began to feel like microwaved crap.

We approached Des once Kim had tried to clean my face up – she hadn't been able to hold my face for too long before I nodded off, so my nose was still bleeding and I couldn't see out of my left eye.

"H-hey man, can – can we stay the night?" Daniel stumbled on his words, trying to hold himself up while balancing Kim. We were all completely blasted, but Des was understanding and let us stay in the guest room. His house here in Chippewa was quite large, so we had the guest bathroom all to ourselves.

I was in there within minutes. Daniel never threw up, and Kim was already falling asleep, so I had the lovely lavatory to myself. My forehead hit the ceramic toilet bowel, and I emptied the contents of my stomach into it. The puke made me retch again, and I must have been making some pretty awful noises, because Daniel came in to see 'if anyone was dying in here'.

"Help." I muttered, spitting out a piece of vomit-covered bread. Perhaps it hadn't been a good idea to eat the sandwich beforehand. Then again, I hadn't expected Des to bring out all of the strong alcohol that he did.

"Alright." Daniel slurred, grabbing my hair away from my face and repositioning me. I vomited again and again and again, until my esophagus felt like it was bleeding and I was about ready to pass out.

But thankfully, the small slice of atrocious time passed by. Daniel and I were soon lying side by side on the bathroom floor, talking about things that we normally wouldn't have talked about. Jobs, grades, university and animals. Children, at one point, also made it into our conversation. Of course it was uncoordinated, drunken slobbering, but we were still talking about mature things. That had to count for something, right?We talked about the environment, and how the government didn't have teenager's best interests in mind – how they didn't understand us, and how they all thought that they were so smart just because they were older that we were. We talked about how we probably weren't going to get jobs, and the place that we held on the planet. We knew that we weren't set up for anything big, but that everybody had a role on earth, no matter how small and insignificant they were.

"I know there's a point in living, and I know I'm good for something," I muttered, covering my face with my forearm. "But I just haven't found it yet. And I need it."

The hangover the next morning was a major bitch. It felt like my entire head was going to be split in two. Thankfully Des had mountains of Advil and Tylenol at his disposal, so we weren't completely at loss.

"I feel like my head is gonna explode." Kim groaned, retching into the toilet. I held her hair back, glad that I had gotten the worst of it last night.

"Alright, come on." Daniel's accent came out as he pulled Kim off of the toilet bowl, allowing her to puke one last time. "We gotta get goin'."

"Going where?" I mumbled. "It's a Saturday."

"Yeah, well I gotta go get my Dad's meds, and he can't wait all day, Welsh." Daniel snapped, dragging Kim out the door. I made a face and followed him, trying to ignore the masses of bodies that were asleep on the floor. It seemed like most people had gone home, but a lot of the kids who were up all night just slept wherever they were last standing. It was like walking through a nursery for teenagers. I wished that I could sleep just as peacefully as they seemed to.


	10. Chapter 9 - We've Got Spirit

**Chpt 9 - 'We've Got Spirit'**

**( cgi/set?id=100946100)**

"You look terrible." Ken regarded me carefully while I was indulging in my morning dose of nicotine. I had tried to hide the bags underneath my eyes with makeup, but washed it off once I realized that nothing could be done. It had been my smart idea to steal some of my stepfather's strongest gin and tonic the night before, and now I was dealing with the after-effects.

"Thanks." I snuffed out my cigarette with my beaten up shoes and followed Ken inside the school. On our way to meet up with our friends, Ken stopped and gazed at the sign that two cheerleaders were hanging up. My stomach formed knots.

"Who's Lincoln?" Ken questioned.

"Our rival school." Vicky stated with the utmost superior tone, as if it was the most obvious thing in the world and we should have known it long before asking the clearly stupid question.

"We made regionals," The other cheerleader helping hand the sign smiled at us. "Isn't that cool?"

"In what?" Ken asked. I stayed behind him, not wanting to be noticed by Vicky at all. I wanted to be completely invisible to her from now on. Avoiding Vicky, in my opinion, was by far the best interaction you could have with her.

"Basketball?" Vicky gave him a 'duh' glare, but then averted her attention to the other girl helping her with the poster. "Will you stop jerking it out of my hands?" She snapped. "You're gonna rip it – God!"

I just followed Ken's rather large form towards the rest of my friends, glad that she hadn't noticed me at all. She hadn't apologized for our little interaction at lunch a couple weeks ago, and knowing her she probably wasn't going to anytime soon.

"Hey," Ken nodded at Daniel and Kim. "Did you guys hear about the basketball game? _Pretty exciting_." I had a feeling that he was being sarcastic – yet again.

"I'm so sick of all this ra-ra crap anyway. These jocks think they're such badasses." Daniel glared at a couple of the more popular boys pass us. "Walkin' around like they cured cancer. Its just monkeys!" He proceeded to make ape noises towards the backs of the jocks, making the rest of us laugh.

"Hey guys." Lindsay joined our group, and we smiled our greetings.

"Where's loverboy?" Daniel teased.

"Nick? I dunno." Lindsay shrugged. I liked that about her – she proved that just because you were in a relationship with someone that didn't mean that you had to be attached at the hip all the time. She understood that relationships didn't need constant physical attention to stay strong.

"I thought you two were joined at the tongue." Ken scoffed.

Lindsay ignored him, instead turning to Kim. "Hey Kim, can I talk to you for a second?"

The boys made 'ohh' noises. "Are you pregnant?" Ken asked, reaching for Lindsay's stomach.

"No!" She frowned.

"Hey! Don't be such a pig! God! She wants to talk to _me_. Excuse us." Kim glared at Ken and pulled Lindsay away. Daniel shot an elastic band at Kim's ass as she walked away, and I found myself frowning. I understood why Lindsay had picked Kim over me – she had a better relationship with her – but what was so pressing that she couldn't talk to all of us about it?

_Clearly none of your business. _My brain chided me, and I abandoned the thought. It was getting easier and easier for me to forget things. My brain was like the memory in a computer. It could only store so much before it either exploded or had to delete some things. And unfortunately, it seemed like my storage drive was quite small.

"Welsh? You with me?" Daniel snapped his fingers in front of my face. I came to, realizing that I had been staring into space for a minute.

"Mhm." I nodded my head violently, staring at Daniel for a bit once I realized that he looked completely different from when I had last seen him. His hair was disheveled, and he looked like he hadn't gotten a good amount of sleep – like me. In fact, I was sure that Daniel felt as terrible as he looked. The same must've gone for me, like Ken had oh-so-politely reminded me just minutes ago.

"Alright, don't pass out or anything." Ken frowned.

I rolled my eyes, pretending to shrug it off when really – passing out was a realistic concern for me. I hadn't eaten in the last 24 hours, and my stomach was really starting to hurt. All I had had was a cigarette this morning; the nausea had taken care of stomach pains for quite a while, but now my organs were complaining. There was never much food at my house, and because of the drunken mess that I had been in last night I wasn't exactly about to go down to a restaurant and order a pizza. So in result, I was starving.

* * *

It was lunch, and the cheerleaders were cheering. It was almost comical to see them so positive and happy when really they were awful, twisted demonic souls stuck in preppy little bodies. Their voices were like a soundtrack of what would have been playing in the speakers of hell. I cringed and tried to avoid thinking about the pain in my stomach, instead focusing my attention on Kim's straw disappearing through her lips.

Coach Fredericks came to stand in front of the cheer team once they were finished the god-awful school anthem. "We haven't made regionals since 1971. Alright, so I expected to see some butts in those bleachers Saturday, huh?"

The cafeteria let out halfhearted cheers, and Daniel and Kim rolled their eyes. I giggled at the sight of Daniel swinging his food around on his fork, pretending to be excited and food nearly falling from his mouth. Coach Fredericks invited Todd Shellinger - Captain of the basketball team - up to the front of the cafeteria to speak, and I watched the dream boy get up to stand.

"Thanks coach," He embraced his mentor. "This season's been fantastic. I wanna thank Coach Fredericks…and God." He pointed up at the sky, as if he had just remembered the presence of the Lord. He continued on about how happy he was for all of these opportunities, and I rolled my eyes for the fifth time by the end of his speech. "And I wanna see all of you guys out there on Saturday – to watch us DESTROY Lincoln, alright?!"

The lunchroom cheered louder than before, perhaps because of the presence of someone popular like Todd, and then the cheerleaders did their stupid little cheer again. Everyone stood up besides Ken and I, who simply placed our feet on the now discarded chairs and watched the kids. Everything seemed to be going normal until our Norseman mascot broke the table in half and fell to the floor. This time I let myself burst out into laughter with the rest of the students, ignoring the pain in my stomach. That had to be the funniest thing I would see the whole day.

"Hey," Kim pointed at me when we had all settled down to finish our lunch. "What did you eat today?"

"I-uhh…I had a really big breakfast." I stammered and scratched the back of my neck, not wanting to get caught.

"Are you sleeping at home?" Kim knew that we had no food in the fridge.

"No – no. I'm staying at…at, uhm -" Crap - I was screwed. She was going to make me eat something.

"Eat." Kim pushed her plate of fries over to me. I frowned down at them in disdain, and the back up at Kim, noticing that the rest of my friends were now staring at me.

"Come on, Katherine." Daniel pushed the plate closer to me. "It won't kill you to have one."

"Yeah, you looked like crap this morning and you look like crap now." Ken added.

"Oh, thank you." I glared at him.

"Come on Katherine, eat." Kim urged me, and I sighed, finally taking one greasy covered potato stick and shoving it in between my lips. There was a chorus of cheers. The fry was slimy and disgusting as it slid down my throat. I shuddered and hoped that they resumed regular conversation once I swallowed. Thankfully they had gone back to arguing about music or movies, and I was left alone with my growling stomach.

I was happy to leave it that way.

* * *

"This place is turning into a cult." Daniel glared, hands in his pockets as he watched a bunch of enthusiastic kids run by, cheering about 'assassinating Lincoln'. I personally didn't think that the joke was that funny – the assassination of the 16th president of our nation had been a tragedy, and I didn't think that it was a good idea to use it for school sporting events.

"These jocks can put a ball through a hoop." Daniel continued. "Whoop dee do."

"My parents are making me go to the game with them." Lindsay grimaced. I noticed that she was actually looking more tired today, and Daniel was looking better. Kim was normal as always, blond hair silky and smooth, filing her nails against the wall like she hadn't a care in the world. And of course, Ken and his sideburns never changed. It was comforting to see some moderation and stability around here.

"I'm going." Ken blurted.

"What?"

"Really?"

We all looked at him strangely. He wasn't one for school events. Why was he going to this one? "Well," He explained. "I heard we're gonna lose, right? I think it's kinda funny when the jock's cry." He then imitated one of the pretty boys making a face and crying. "Wahh – _they cheated!_"

We all laughed, and the mood was relatively good until Daniel informed us that Nick was fast approaching from down the hall. He asked Lindsay what she was going to do, and the news broke that Lindsay was intending to break up with him. Daniel advised her not to, but I frowned and told her to act on her own accord. It wasn't up to Heidi Henderson to decide what her relationship with Nick was going to be like. If Lindsay wasn't comfortable, she could break up with him because _she _wanted to – not because Heidi or Daniel or Kim had told her anything different.

Nick embraced Lindsay once he arrived, and Ken sarcastically commented that he hadn't said 'hello' to him.

"Hey, _Ken_. Hey guys." Nick nodded to the rest of us.

It was a weird feeling acknowledging that five people knew something whilst the six person had no idea what was going on behind their back. It was sad, really, that the relationship right in front of our eyes was doomed with no way around it. Sensing the awkward tension, Lindsay asked Nick for a ride home, and he agreed without questioning. They walked off, and Daniel put two hands together to pray to Lindsay. I rolled my eyes and smiled; trying to motion to her that Nick was crazy.

* * *

"Man, I love the smell of gasoline." Daniel breathed in and smiled. We had been sitting on the hood of his car for a while after school, drinking pops and talking.

"Yeah?" Kim looked at him doubtfully. "It gives you brain damage."

I nodded, remembering the lecture that we sat through about different drugs and how they could affect your body in grade 10. It had been a long and boring hour, but we had learnt some pretty cool facts about heroin and cocaine, as well as second hand gasoline intake.

Suddenly a car pulled up in front of us, and the boy driving it yelled out. "Hey, you guys go to McKinley?"

There was threat in his tone – I recognized it because my father used the same voice right before he was about to hit me. I debated shouting out to him 'no', but Kim had beaten me to the punch by saying 'yes'. Before I knew it, we were getting eggs, tomatoes and drinks thrown at us. I shielded myself and managed to avoid most of the shots by ducking behind Ken once again. We chased after the speeding care, throwing our drinks at them.

"Dammit, I'm soaked! Will you do something, Daniel?" Kim shrieked.

"Whaddya want me to do, blow on you?" Daniel's good mood was ruined. It was sad, really – the few times that I saw him happy tended to get set off by the smallest things.

"That better have been water – that's all I'm saying." Ken shook his arm off, and I wiped my wet hands on his jacket, making a grossed out face.

We were gonna nail those assholes next time we saw them.

* * *

"No, I mean, Nick's cool," Kim and I were leaning against the hood of Daniel's car the next day while he tried to fix something that had been bothering the engine. Ken was helping by cranking some mundane part that I couldn't recognize. "It's just that when he gets a girlfriend he goes psycho."

"Maybe he just gets so horny his brain fries, y'know?" Ken stopped cranking to look up at us. Kim giggled.

"Dumbest thing you can do – let a girl know how much you like her. Then they just run." Daniel grinned.

"Oh, is that why you're such a bastard to me?" Kim touched his shoulder, and Daniel turned his grin to her.

"Yeah, well you're still here, aren'tcha?"

Kim grinned and everything seemed fine for a few seconds, until she slammed on the hood of the car and stood up. "Oh man!" She exclaimed, and I followed her line of sight. "There's that car! Those jocks from Lincoln that nailed us! That's them!"

We all piled into the car as quickly as possible, Daniel shutting the hood and revving the engine. "Go, go, go! Before they get away!" I yelled.

We sped away from Ben's car shack and traced the shiny red car all the way to a nice neighbourhood. I recognized the nice paint job and the brand of the car as we hopped out, confirming that these were our attackers from yesterday.

Kim held out the can of spray paint towards Daniel. Thankfully he always kept some spare cans underneath his seat – in case a situation like this ever arose. "You do it."

"Why don't you do it?" Daniel made a face.

"'Cause I'm a girl."

"What's that supposed to mean?!" I shoved my friends out of the way and grabbed the can myself, spraying 'U-SUK' into the side of the car.

"Hurry up." Ken chided, and as if just on cue, a boy wearing a plaid sweater walked out of the driveway. I frowned, not recognizing him and then fearing that we had tagged the wrong car.

"What are you doing?" He spread his arms and advanced towards us.

"We're giving your car a new paint job! What are you gonna do about it, huh?" Kim stalked towards him.

"'The hell?"

"Forget it, water balloon boy." Daniel chided.

"Yeah, thanks a lot." Ken added. Suddenly, four more buff looking guys all wearing Lincoln sweatshirts came out from the hidden driveway to back up the scrawny boy. I gulped. This may or may not have been a bad choice.

"Hey," I heard Ken backing up. "Somethin' tells me it's time to go."

"Kim, Katherine," Daniel tried to pull us along. "Let's go."

"These losers are from McKinley!" The plaid boy recognized us and inspected the damage done on his car. "Look what this bitch just did to my car!" His glare turned to me.

I shoved him into his group of security. "You're the bitch, man."

"Come on Daniel, kick his ass." Kim and I were picking a fight with the wrong people, but we didn't care. At least I was willing to do something instead of stand by and watch my friends get beat up.

"Kick my ass?" The boy and his friends came closer to us, looking ready for a fight.

"Tell my mother I love her." Daniel's surprising statement was the last thing I heard before shit started to hit the fan. In mere seconds, there were two people on top of me, and I started taking punches left right and center.

I grunted out in pain, hissing and moaning as I tried to shove two of the jocks off of me. I managed to kick one off, and then knocked the lighter one in the side of the head. Seeing my chance, I began to ram his skull as hard as I could.

_Pretend its Rick. _The little voice in my head aided me, and somehow I hit my boy harder. He flopped to the side, crawling away from me on his knees. I gasped once I caught a look at my hand. There was blood. Lot's of blood. I must have used my nails, because my fingers were coated. The boy was now moaning, and I noticed a large gash on the side of his face.

I had been wearing rings.

I jumped up and looked around, deciding that it was time for us to go. Ken was beating the crap out of the plaid boy, and Kim and Daniel looked like they were getting the crap beat out of them. What the hell did Lincoln have against us in the first place?

In the middle of my thought, I was tackled from behind, and I let out an 'oomph' as I hit the ground, once again underneath someone. The guy on top of my straddled my waist and jammed my face into the ground. I tasted gravel and squirmed, trying to buck him off of me – but he was having none of it. Just as I thought I was going to get killed by having my head rammed into the pavement, the jackass got thrown off of me.

Daniel.

"Come on," He pulled me up and then regarded me wearily whilst dragging me along. "Welsh, you're hurt bad."

I certainly didn't feel attractive at all right now. I felt dizzy and my face hurt. I felt around for blood and discovered a lump forming on my lip. Ouch. That would be a bruise.

"You're bleedin'." Ken nodded at me and pointed to my forehead as we got in the car.

"I know." I growled and used Kim's mirror to survey the damage. There was a huge gash on my head, and I was quite deep. My stomach lurched at the sight of it, and I gagged once. Kim's head snapped over to look at me. I gagged again, actually looking around to see how my friends look. Kim had a cut on her lip, Ken's nose was bleeding, and Daniel's eye was looking like it had seen better days.

"Katherine?" Kim slid over to my side of the seat and pulled my hair back into a ponytail. I gagged again, my neck sagging forwards. I felt the vomit rising past my stomach…up my windpipe, and then I leaned over the side of the car to vomit onto the road.

"Don't take me to the hospital." I whimpered, flopping against Kim and wincing as my cut rubbed against her jacket.

"No, we won't. You'll be fine." Kim pressed her sleeve against my injury and stroked my hair. We eventually made it to the school where we were due for a game, and by now everyone injuries – but mine – had scabbed over.

"We better win this game – or I'm gonna be so pissed." Ken swore, handing me Daniel's spare shirt he kept in the back of his car to hold against my bleeding forehead.

"Yeah, you know what? I'm sick of these frickin' Lincoln shits."

"You know what?" I growled, slamming Daniel's car door shut and disposing of the bloody t-shirt once we arrived at the school. "I'm glad we did that. Those bitches deserved it."

"Yeah." Ken grunted. "What assholes."

We entered through the main entrance way and greeted Lindsay and her father, who were talking to a group of businessmen.

"Oh my god!" She exclaimed upon catching sight of us. "W-what happened to you guys?!"

"We got jumped by some boneheads at Lincoln." Kim gripped onto us to aid her from falling over, and I briefly wondered if she had been hit in the head anywhere. I was still wiping vomit off of my face and putting pressure on my again bleeding wound.

"Why?" Lindsay questioned, alarm clear on her face.

"We trashed their car." Ken grinned. I smiled at her, and her eyes flitted nervously to my forehead.

"They had it coming." I made a very unhappy face, and one of the gentlemen in his suit gave me a funny look.

"Dad," Lindsay's tone hinted that she wasn't really proud of introducing us as her friends. "You remember Daniel, and Kim…and this is Katherine and Ken."

"No," Mr. Weir pretended to not recognize us in front of his friends. "I don't believe I've had the pleasure –"

"Yeah!" Daniel interrupted. "Mr. Weir! You remember, how's Mrs. Weir doin'?"

Mr. Weir started to look extremely uncomfortable, especially at the mention of his wife. "Oh – uhm, she's – ah…she's fine. Now Lindsay, why don't you just run along now with your friends, okay?" Mr. Weir gave up on his efforts and shooed us away.

"Okay." Daniel agreed, and we stumbled away. "Go, McKinley!"

* * *

"Go McKinley! Gun 'em down! Lincoln - YOU SUCK!" Daniel screamed. It was a couple minutes later, and we were sitting in the bleachers of the school's gymnasium. Once having arrived at the gym, we have become extremely interactive with the game, wanting McKinley to win after what had happened with those Lincoln boys from before.

One of our team members scored a goal, and Daniel went crazy. "Yeah! Come on! Way to go, buddy! Get down there, defence!" He clapped.

The game went okay after that, and after half time we all began to cheer. "Lincoln, Lincoln, I've been thinkin', what the hell have you been drinkin'?!" I clapped and sang along, eager to see our victory over the other stupid school.

Another goal, and more cheers from Ken, Kim, Daniel and I. "Yeah, nothin' but net, baby!"

The buzzer rang out again a couple minutes later; another point for McKinley.

"In your face, losers!" Kim screamed.

"Yeah," A girl from beside me grinned. "That's the spirit guys, you rock!"

I just stared at her with my swollen, bruised and bloody face. She retracted for a moment, but didn't say anything. I didn't hear any more comments from her for the rest of the game. At one point, the score was tied, and one of our players got knocked down. We all jumped up and booed, yelling obscenities. But everything was redeemed in the second half of the game, and before we knew it, the final basket was being shot. Todd Schellinger lined himself up, and arched the ball perfectly into the net. We jumped up, cheering and screaming.

"YES!" I put both hands up in the air. "In your FACE, assholes!"

It was an exhilarating feeling to know that we'd won, but I knew that the happiness of sweet revenge would only last me awhile. I had to go to my house after the game. I hadn't been there in at least two weeks, and I knew that once my mother saw me looking like I'd been jumped she would go nuts. My stepfather couldn't have cared less if some random kids beat on me – heck, he would probably be glad about it.

"Hey Welsh, you need a ride home?" Daniel opened his car door and motioned towards it. I gladly accepted and slid inside the vehicle.

"I'm so glad that we beat those losers. They totally deserved it." Kim applied more eye shadow in the review mirror.

"Yeah, jerks." Daniel grunted, backing up the car and zooming out of the school's parking lot. His speed increased until we were flying along the streets, radio blaring and tires screeching. Daniel could be a safe driver – when he wanted to. The incidents from today really seemed to have geared him up.

I thought that Daniel had offered to give me a ride to my house, but when he pulled up in front of his own I frowned. "Are you gonna pick something up?"

"Nah, we're home." Daniel gave me a funny look while he was getting out of the car. "You said home, right?"

I grinned. He had a very good point. 'House' and 'home' were two very different things. A house was a physical thing where people ate, lived and slept comfortably. A home was somewhere where you could feel safe after a long day; put your feet up and not give a crap about anyone screaming at you, or sit for hours reading a good book. Home was where you would go not to feel categorized or shunned or stupid, but to feel warm and happy and welcomed. Only now did I realize why I had always called my house, 'house' and not 'home'. It was because home was where the heart was. My heart was with my friends – the ones I called my family. So it didn't matter where I went, as long as I was with my friends. No - my family.

So I got up out of my seat, slammed the door behind me and followed my family home.


	11. Chapter 10 - The Diary

**'The Diary'**

**( cgi/set?id=101186393)**

It was nine in the morning, and it was cold. I was shivering in my converse, wondering how the hell Kim had convinced me to hitchhike with her and Lindsay this morning. I had a couple of cents in my pocket – I could have taken the bus. But now it was too late, and I was thrusting my chest up into the air with my finger out, listening to Kim yell obscenities after cars that refused to pick us up. I didn't blame them – they were probably just as reluctant to pick up random people in their cars as we were to get in them. Hitchhiking was a last resort that we used when we were late and didn't want to walk. It was safer with one of the guys here, but Daniel's car had broken down – again – and Kim decided that three was better than two. So we picked up Lindsay.

"We should definitely be getting a ride." Kim bitched. "Right here is the best spot."

"This is cool!" Lindsay had clearly never been hitchhiking before. It was _not _cool. It was stupid – and I couldn't believe that I was standing here in the cold when I could have already been in the warm school. I knew how to appreciate heating; my house hadn't had it for years and I sought out building with toasty warm insides when I was out and about.

Lindsay and Kim were talking about some English assignment that I couldn't care less about – I wasn't in their English class and quite frankly, I only read books that really intrigued me. I didn't find many of those.

We stuck out our thumbs as more cars passed us by.

"We're so sheltered, y'know?" Lindsay added. "There's this whole other America out there! I mean the person who picks us up could be an artist, or a physic, or -"

"Or an escaped felon." I deadpanned. Lindsay shot me a look.

"Okay, one thing that helps;" Kim interrupted us. "Points your boobs towards the road." She grabbed Lindsay by the waist and shifted it so that her chest was further out. I didn't have much on my chest, so I settled for pouting my lips instead.

After several more obscenities and stomping of feet, a car stopped a couple feet away from us.

"Yes, thank Jesus Christ." I praised the lord, despite the fact that I was an atheist.

"Hey," Kim greeted the driver. "Drop us as close to the corner of Wilson and Elvis as you can."

The driver was silent, and fear peeked in my stomach. Usually there was a nod or a 'alright, sweetheart'. But this driver was completely silent. Maybe he was a mute? That would have been the best of a bad situation.

I didn't have time to figure it out, however, because Lindsay decided to be an idiot and introduce us. I face palmed. There were certain rules to hitchhiking; you never smoked before a ride, you never got into the trucks or vans, you never hitched at night, there was no backseat driving, and you had to offer to pay your way. Last but not least, you had to control your mouth. It was dangerous enough climbing into some creep's car, but if you began to tell the driver things about yourself, you never knew what they could do.

"Are you from around these parts?" Lindsay smiled at the man. I shoved her in her leg, but she just gave me a face. I shot her a very alarmed, look, but it was too late. The driver responded. Perhaps if he didn't pull out a gun I may have reconsidered hitting my friend.

"1210 lilac terrace." His voice was normal, not raspy or pedophile-sounding.

"Oh. So what do you do?" Lindsay continued, but the man didn't respond to her question. She tried again, much to my horror. "You pick up hitchhikers a lot?"

Suddenly the man stopped the car and turned around to face my friend. "Listen - I know you. I buy gear from your dad's store. I don't think you girls should be doin' this – and I feel obliged to tell 'im what you're up to."

I face palmed again, slapping Lindsay for the second time. We all huffed, but thankfully the man was nice enough to drop us off near the school. This had been a close call. Not because I had almost gotten shot or raped, but because my parents were far worse with phone calls than Kim's. I could only assume that Mr. and Mrs. Weir would want to contact not only the Kelly's, but my family as well. So thankfully my parents never picked up the phone – they were fearful that it would be the CIA or my grandparents trying to get in contact with their estranged family members. Sometimes it came in handy to have our message box completely full.

* * *

Four days went by since the hitchhiking incident. On the first day, everything was completely normal, besides Vicky casting me dirty glances in the hallway. On the second day, my mother kicked me in the stomach to wake me up, resulting in vomit on her 'nicely vacuumed' rug, and no food for ten hours. On the third day, I came to school with a black eye and Lindsay was complaining about her parents. On the fourth day, something strange happened at lunch.

We were discussing the worst ways to die, when Lindsay sat down at the table and conversation seemed to stop. Nick leaned back in his seat, glaring at her. I frowned in alarm – this wasn't going to be a repeat of Heidi Henderson, was it?

"I gotto go to shop class." Nick got up and patted Daniel on the shoulder without emotion, nodding at me. "I told Ken I'd meet him there."

I smiled and continued to eat my five pieces of lettuce. I hadn't been eating much in the past 48 hours – my stomach still hurt from when my mother's shoe had decided to embed itself in my gut, and I couldn't see much out of my swollen left eye.

"Yeah, y'know, come to think of it," Kim piped up. "I should probably get going too. 'Cause I gotta, y'know, do drugs…"

_Wait, what? _I stopped eating and gave my friend a very strange look. What was up her butt? Her tone was completely sarcastic and crude. This was what she acted like when she was angry. Had I missed something? "Oh yeah, and have sex." She finished.

"What?" Daniel and questioned at the same time.

"Lindsay knows what I'm talking about." Kim fixed Lindsay with her best bitch face, and Daniel and I then turned to Lindsay, both of us with one eyebrow quirked.

"Is this about what my parents said?" Lindsay gave her a pointed look. Kim stood up and scoffed.

"I told you Lindsay, I don't _give_ what your parents say about me."

"Well, why are you so mad?"

"I _do _give what my friends say about me." Wow – Kim was really upset. I hadn't realized how close the connection was between these two. It was nice that they were so tightly wound, but at the same time it was frustrating to see them arguing for a reason that I had yet to understand.

"I didn't say anything!" Lindsay defended herself. Kim just sneered and stalked off.

"Wow, you sure know how to clear a room." Daniel munched on his fries, but I stayed quiet. I didn't want to get involved at all with this incident. Lindsay had a dejected look on her face. I wondered how it would have been to have parents who actually had an impact on your social life. Perhaps I would be hanging out with the science geeks, or the band kids.

_Family. _The little voice in my head reminded me. _These guys are special. They're family. _

"Welsh, lets get to math." Daniel tapped me on the arm, frowning at the dazed look in my eyes. I shook him off with a smile and said farewell to Lindsay, who still looked pretty upset after what had happened with Kim only moments before. We made our way to the math room, where Mr. Kowcheski was already sitting with a frown upon his face. His large form was seemingly embedded in his swivel chair that he loved to swing around on. Sometimes I had the sneaking suspicion that he was absolutely bored out of his skull with this school. We were such dull and plain students – half of us brain-dead with no ambition, and the other half too academic for our own good.

I took a seat beside Daniel at the back of the room, trying to put negative thoughts out of my mind for now. I had enough to deal with with a gigantic black spot on my face anyhow. I had gotten a couple of stares when the makeup rubbed off, but I shrugged them off and pretended like I had just gotten into another fight.

"Alright guys, let's get started." Mr. Kowcheski spun around in his chair to face the blackboard, and scribbled our lesson plan onto it.

I took a deep breath and prepared myself for the next hour.

* * *

"You know, you should just start haulin' a bucket around." Daniel held my hair up in a ponytail while I emptied my stomach into the trashcan. The retching was violent, and my gut was throbbing in pain. I groaned and heaved myself off of the garbage-containing cylinder, trying to focus my vision. At this point I had gone at least two days without eating a solid meal, and things were starting to get a little choppy. I didn't know why I did this – perhaps it was a self-confidence thing or sometimes I just didn't feel like eating, but either way my vision was starting to get blurry.

"Water." My steps faltered as my brain tried to recognize which part of the school I was in so that I could locate the water fountain, but I almost fell forwards. Daniel yanked me back up by my arm.

"Welsh? You don't look too good."

I made an incoherent noise and tried to shake my friend off of me, but he wasn't letting up. I forced my brain and my eyes to coordinate, and finally things came back into focus. Daniel had a frown on his face, his cheekbones tight and lipped pressed together.

"Water." I repeated.

Daniel dragged me to the nearest fountain, telling a passing Ken to go and fetch Kim.

* * *

"It's just, she's so stupid sometimes, y'know? Like, she didn't even say sorry for what she said." Kim whined. It was exactly one hour after I had vomited, and my stomach was beginning to rumble. "You should've heard her speaking in Spanish – literally the most annoying thing I've ever heard. And she refuses to admit that she said anything!"

"Do you think," I rubbed my temples, trying to resist my urges for a cigarette. "That she actually thinks you're a drug addict and a whore?"

"I dunno," Kim shrugged and made a face. "I don't wanna talk to her."

"Well Kim, her parents said that about you – not Lindsay."

"She probably thinks the same thing!" My friend just filed her nails faster and harder, refusing to look at me.

"You haven't even asked her!" I looked up at the sky, as if the answer was going to be written in the clouds. How could I convince Kim to actually get her butt off of these bleachers and go talk to Weir?

Two more days went by, and all Kim would talk about was her parents and drugs. It was like she was so uncomfortable with being accused of something that she couldn't back it up with any proof that she wasn't an experimenting teen with drug problems. Daniel and I unfortunately had to bear the burden of the whiplash, and had been talking with Kim while she was ignoring Lindsay. I was getting tired of smoking on the patio and listening to her bitch. Her bad mood was starting to change my mindset, and the I really didn't need another dosage of anger in my personality.

Finally, Daniel and I decided to approach Lindsay at her locker the next day. We had had enough of the whining. Kim and Lindsay needed to talk.

"Hey, Lindsay." Daniel greeted, and I rushed up behind him, clinging to his jacket. "We can't take it anymore. You've gotta talk to Kim."

"Why, does she wanna talk to me?"

"I dunno, but you gotta do somethin'." Daniel was looking just as tired as I felt. His hair was greasier than ever and there were heavy bags underneath his eyes.

"She's driving us nuts!" I added, my voice slightly raspy. I had been vomiting all night yesterday, as a result of the whiskey I had decided to drink. I didn't know what I had been thinking – pulling out a bottle of Crown Royal at four in the afternoon. I had drank it slowly, making sure that I savoured the burning of the liquid going down my throat and how it built up at the bottom of my stomach.

"She's bitchin' nonstop about her mom, you," Daniel continued. "Your parents."

"We're dying." Lindsay's gaze flitted to me at my words, and her eyes widened.

"Oh my god, Katherine – you look terrible."

"I know." I drawled, blowing a stray piece of hair out of my face. I was well aware of the fact that I looked like a soggy piece of bread. But for some reason I was content feeling like a balloon that had been popped and was resting on the floor, wrinkled and empty.

"Well," Lindsay turned her eyes back to Daniel. "Why is she going so crazy?"

"She says you didn't stick up for her."

"I tried!" Lindsay defended herself. "She's still mad."

"We know, but mostly it's just her feelings are hurt." Daniel leaned in closer, as if the fact that Kim actually had feelings was a big secret. Maybe it _was _a big secret. Kim wasn't very well known for being insulted or sad.

"Oh really?" Lindsay scoffed. "I thought Kim was too tough to have her feelings hurt."

"Are you kidding?" I cut in. "Kim's like the rawest nerve there is. She's like a body, without skin, she's like a bloody -"

"Okay!" Lindsay stopped me before I got too graphic. "I get it!"

"Can you do it soon? 'Cause she's really being a pain in our asses." Daniel added.

"Yeah." Lindsay agreed, and I grinned, happy that they were going to make up and that this whole mess would be over soon.

"Great. I owe you my life." Daniel smiled, and we took off to our next class. I smiled and waved at Lindsay, clutching my French books.

* * *

After an excruciating class about how to conjugate verbs into the past tense, Nick, Daniel, Kim and we found ourselves walking out of the school with our heads down. We were all in pretty shitty moods, thanks to Kim's attitude the entire week. Lindsay still hadn't done anything about the problem, and I was half expecting for her to just stop talking to Kim completely. I figured that Lindsay was just waiting for the whole thing to blow over – but that wouldn't work with Kim. Kim could hold grudges for eternity if she had to.

"Hey Kim!" A voice called out from behind us, and we all turned to find Lindsay. "Kim!" She called again, and I looked over at my blonde friend. She hadn't turned around yet. Lindsay had to should two more times until Kim flipped.

"Yeah?" She spat. I flinched, not expecting her harsh tone. I had to remind myself that it wasn't directed at me. Kim was scary when she was angry, and I had always found myself avoiding her completely when she was on the warpath.

"Can I talk to you for a minute?"

"What do you want?" Kim jutted her jaw out, as if to challenge Lindsay to a fight in the middle of the corridor.

"Well, what are you doing right now?" Lindsay cocked her head, knowing fully well that Kim was up to nothing.

"Nothing." Kim reluctantly admitted.

"Do you wanna come over to my house?" Lindsay's comment made me raise a brow, and Nick, Daniel and I tried to pretend like we weren't listening. "I thought we could hang out."

"Well, what about your parents?" Kim seemed reluctant.

"What about 'em?" Lindsay smiled, and I saw Kim give her a subtle nod before turning back to us.

"Hey Daniel! I'll see you later, I'm gonna go over to Lindsay's."

"Okay – later." He nodded.

I could vaguely hear Kim thanking the Lord that she didn't have to spend any more time whining to Daniel and I or else she would puke her guts out. At the same time, Daniel put his two hands together to praise the skies. How ironic.

Not that they were both glad to have time alone, but because I really did puke my guts out – and not just because of Kim.


	12. Chapter 11 - Looks and Books

**'Looks and Books'**

**( cgi/set?id=101635752)**

"Hey!" Daniel exclaimed with a smile on his face while we were all walking down the hallway one afternoon. "We got a gig."

"Yeah," Nick drawled, filling Lindsay in. "Stoker's brother is gonna let us play his party. He's gonna give us a Marshall's stack and a PV bass cabinet – it's like total pro equipment!"

I just smile and trailed behind my friends, glad that they were happy.

"Yeah, we're gonna blow the roof off of his garage in the most _rock-tageous _way." Ken joined in.

"Wow, that's really great you guys!" Lindsay seemed to genuinely care, although she clearly didn't understand why they were telling her all of this.

"Yeah, so we just need your parents' station wagon to pick up the amps." Daniel held out his bright red lollipop in Lindsay's direction, and I quirked a brow, wondering if she would consent.

"What?!" Lindsay slowed her pace and looked around at us. "You guys can't use my parents car – they're insane about it. My dad even calls it 'Betty'."

"Lindsay, please." Daniel pleaded, turning to peer pressure. "I mean, we needa get those amps. Don't be lame."

"I'm not being lame, Daniel. My parents are never gonna let us borrow their station wagon."

"Well," Kim jut in. "Didn't you say that your mom plays, like, bridge or something on Tuesdays?"

"Yeah, so?" Lindsay looked around, still not making the connection.

"So, she won't even notice it's gone! Just grab the keys – we'll be back before she finishes the first hand." Daniel encouraged her, once again holding his lollipop out like a sword.

"I dunno…" Lindsay looked unsure, but somehow later that afternoon I found myself sitting in the very back of Lindsay's parents' station wagon. It was nice having the entire back seat to myself – I could stretch out and do whatever I wanted. Of course with this noisy gang I wasn't going to get one minute of shuteye, but it was worth a shot.

I could barely hear their bickers over the sounds of the radio and Ken's farting. Lindsay was swerving to avoid squirrels, Daniel was insulting her driving skills, and it seemed like everything was getting out of hand. I hadn't been expecting anything to happen, but suddenly I heard Daniel shout from the front of the vehicle, and then everything went black. 

* * *

I woke to find myself in a familiar setting – dark walls and a crappy looking room with 'yield' signs and band posters all over. There was a musky scent, with an underlined tone of cigarettes and sex.

Daniel.

How come whenever something absolutely shit happened I always wound up at Daniel's house? I remembered the screeching of tires, Daniel's panicked yells and then a swaying movement. I remembered pressure on the back of my knees and my shoulders, and then I had woken. Drawing from those memories, I could safely conclude that I hadn't been raped, drugged, or knocked out by a violent enemy. I had most likely been in a car incident. I wracked my head – which was feeling quite sore as I sat up – to try and remember why I had been in the car in the first place.

_Lindsay…amplifiers… _My brain traced the events and my eyes flew open. My friends…Lindsay…had anyone gotten hurt? Was the car okay? Who did we hit? Did something break? Who was in the hospital? What about the police? I jumped off of the bed, hurrying to find out any information that I could with the telephone, only to trip over something lying on the floor. The air left my lungs as I face planted onto the ground with a thump, cursing afterwards. The lump that I had fallen over groaned, and I flipped over on my back to see what the hell I had kicked.

It was Daniel.

"Goddamit." I mumbled and pushed myself up into a sitting position. "Daniel, why are you on the floor?"

"You pushed me." He muttered into his solitary pillow. I rolled my eyes and kicked him awake, avoiding his hands swatting at my feet.

"What the hell happened?"

"Lindsay got into a car accident. I guess you hit your head or somethin', 'cause you blacked out, but I took you to the ER and they said you were fine." He sat up and rubbed his eyes, yawning in between sentences.

"I'm fine?" I poked around my face in the dark for any signs of injury, my tone uncertain.

"Yeah – but it's four AM, Welsh, come on." Daniel pulled himself and me up to get back into bed. "Let's get to bed."

"Four AM?!" I whisper-screeched, ignoring his warm hands on me in favour of gripping my hair. "I've been out since, what, four in the afternoon?!"

"Yeah, whatever." Daniel pulled the covers over our sleeping forms, and I put both hands on either side of my face.

"Are you kidding me!" I smoothed my hair back in an effort to calm myself. "That's a solid twelve hours, Desario, I'm not gonna be able -"

"Katherine, will you shut up? Let's just try and get some sleep, aight? We'll talk in the morning." Daniel slapped me in the stomach and I grunted in disappointment before climbing under the covers. It was surprising that after 12 hours of blackness I was able to rest again, but my brain shut itself down fairly easily. My last thought before the world fell into blackness again was if death would anything like falling asleep. For my sake – I hoped that it would be. 

* * *

The next morning wasn't quite as bad as I imagined it would be. Daniel and I woke up fairly early, stealing some bread from the kitchen and wearing the same clothing as the day before. Mrs. Desario was conveniently washing all of our clothing, but I didn't mind wearing the same outfit for two days.

Daniel and I pulled on our hats and sighed, heading towards his orange car.

"We're pickin' up Kim on the way." Daniel grunted, backing out of the driveway. I noticed that he was driving more carefully – something that I didn't usually see him do.

"You said you took me to the ER, right?" I sniffed, looking up at my friend through the review mirror. His dark eyes caught mine.

"Yeah. Why?"

I was quiet for a few seconds, cracking my neck from side to side until I met his gaze again. "Did anyone else come?"

"What do you mean, Welsh?" Daniel took a right turn and sighed, going as slowly as possible. I stayed silent, knowing fully well that Daniel understood what I was talking about. "No, your parents didn't come."

I pursed my lips in frustration, nodding my head in annoyance. What a ridiculous set of people. Their own daughter had been in a car accident and neither one came to even check on me. I doubted that anyone had even notified them. Our relationship was beyond repair – way past bad and uncontrollable. This was getting to the point where I just didn't care what they thought of me.

I had a swell of rage – a sudden moment of anger and despair that I couldn't control, and before I knew it I was punching the passenger seat of Daniel's car, screaming profanities and insults to the people who were supposed to take the most care of me. I heard Daniel's yells and felt the slowing of the tires, and then his hands flew back to stop me from damaging his car. My breaths came in short gasps – my chest tightened and my brain felt tingly. I didn't realize why everything was blurry until I felt the first trace of a tear on my face.

"Welsh, listen to me – hey! Listen!" Daniel gripped my leg. "They're shitheads anyway – who cares that they didn't come? You've got more than enough family – you've got us. Forget those bastards."

"Goddamit, Welsh. You always gotta get angry in my car, don'tcha?" Daniel huffed with a chuckle and restarted the engine. "Can you just calm your shit until Kim gets here?"

I didn't respond, instead leaned back in the seat and tried to calm down my breathing and the rapid pace of my heart. I barely noticed when Daniel's tires screeched to a halt, and Kim joined us in the car. It was only until Kim started to talk did I realize that I was having a panic attack.

"Katherine? Katherine!" Kim hit me on the leg to get my attention, thinking that I was sleeping.

"Help." I panted, covering my face with my hands as I felt my eyes roll back in my head. I felt like a prisoner in my own skin; my body felt like a crevice that I couldn't escape. I felt claustrophobic, trapped, and tight. I felt like I needed someone to pull me out of my own human form. I felt weak, helpless and feeble. I was a powerless shaking mass in the backseat of my friend's car, unsteady and fragile. Every swell of the brakes was like a tidal wave on my body, and it wasn't until Kim clambered into the backseat to pull me into her arms that my breath began to slow down.

"It's okay. You're going to be fine."

_I'm going to die._

My brain wasn't helping in the slightest bit – the little voice that usually spouted reason or sarcastic insults at my daily expense was now faint and terrified. I didn't know what to do. I want to get out of the car and puke my guts out but at the same time I wanted to stay in the safety of my friend's arms and know that I was truly protected. Neither of these incredible souls would allow any harm to come my way. I was snug and secure – I was free from any real danger or threat. sSoon enough, my breathing slowed down and the nausea receded into the pit of my stomach. I forced the qualms in my stomach until there was nothing but a nervous, dull throbbing. Kim was silent, and I didn't notice that Daniel had stopped the car until the sounds of the late bell ringing hit my eardrums.

"You good?" My brain registered both Kim's soft words and her stroking of my hair. I nodded, sniffling and lifting myself up from her lap, registering the familiar sound of Daniel's knuckles cracking.

I wasn't completely good, but I was halfway there. 

* * *

I joined Kim, Daniel and Ken as we walked in between classes together, expecting today to go on as normally as possible. Kim' exclamation when we rounded the corner proved my previous assumption incorrect.

"Oh my god!" Kim was laughing at a very conservatively dressed Lindsay. "Did you just come from church or something?"

"So how'd things go with your dad? Was he pissed?" Ken snorted, also baffled at the sight of Lindsay wearing her old clothing. I remembered seeing her around school before she had begun to hang out with us, and how she used to wear long skirts and funny looking blouses that were probably way itchier than what they seemed.

"No, not at all. He was really happy that I stole his car and smashed it." Lindsay sneered and pushed past us, her tone icy and bitter.

I stared at my friend's form, shocked that she had averted back to her old self so quickly. The change had been overnight – how rough had her parents been on her? Was she doing this by choice? What had I missed when I blacked out?

"Hey, if it makes you feel any better," Daniel tried to make amends. "The party got moved until tonight."

"You know what, Daniel. That doesn't make me feel better. And now I'm grounded, so I can't go to any of your stupid parties – ever." Lindsay turned and faced us, clutching her books in frustration.

I understood where she was coming from – if my parents found out that I had crashed their car they would have probably done far worse than turn me into a 'good girl'. It was obvious that Lindsay was reverting back to her old behaviour and blaming all of her bad decisions on us. Of course, we had influenced her and pushed her to do things that she normally wouldn't have done if she hadn't been around us at the time, but who couldn't resist a little peer pressure sometimes?

"Why don't you just sneak out?" Daniel offered. He didn't sound pissed off in the slightest, in fact if I didn't know any better I would have made the assumption that he was actually concerned.

"Why don't you just go to hell?!" Lindsay spun around again. It looked like every time she tried to walk away, one of us had something else to tell to her back. It reminded me of a dog on a leash. This scenario seemed like me and my mental illness – every time I tried to pull away, something kept dragging me back to face the problem.

"God, Lindsay!" Kim exclaimed.

"Oh, shut up Kim!"

_Ooh – someone's angry. Why don't you just poke it with a stick? _The little voice in my head chided me.

"I'm sick of you guys getting me in trouble all of the time," Lindsay continued. "I'm sick of you guys – period."

Ken didn't look like he was taking this too seriously – he was leaning against the wall with a smirk on his face. I couldn't say the same for Daniel or Kim. They both looked highly distressed that their friend was so uptight.

"Maybe you're just on your period." Daniel called out just as Lindsay was beginning to walk away. Again with the pulling back, the rope, the restriction; you couldn't get away.

Ken snorted as Lindsay turned around. "Yeah," She exclaimed. "Daniel – that's exactly it! I'm on my period! You figured it out!"

"It was a joke." Daniel muttered as if he knew something that Lindsay didn't, and I found the identical smirk on his face that matched Ken's.

"Oh. Sorry. It's hard to pick up on the subtlety of your wit."

I couldn't even decipher what she was trying to say. She was clearly angry, but she knew that our vocabulary wasn't that extensive. Perhaps she was using those words just to confuse us. That, in itself was just cruel. To tease someone about their knowledge and how they were behind was an extensive form of bullying that I was very familiar with.

"What's up your butt, princess?" Our small group trailed after Lindsay as she angrily stalked down the hall.

"You are, Daniel! I'm tired of you using me! You're the most selfish people I've ever met in my life! Look, I know you don't care about being smart or going school or anything, but just because your lives are such lost causes don't keep assuming that mine is."

"Hey!" In a sudden burst of confidence and anger, I stepped forward and caught Lindsay's arm before she got away. This time I was the rope that was dragging her back into trouble. This was disturbing. "I'm not a lost cause."

Lindsay just gave me a halfhearted smirk. "You keep thinking just that."

I stepped back a bit, letting go of her sleeve, aghast at her sour tone and disrespectful facial expression. The entire time that I thought she had been supporting me and being my friend was a total lie. She hadn't liked me at all. She had thought the exact same thing of each one of us – Daniel, Ken, Kim, Nick and I – that we were all burnouts, losers with no drive or ambition. I watched Lindsay storm away from our group, a ghost of what used to be my companion and friend. It was like watching remnants of a comrade get brushed away.

"What was that all about?"

"I dunno, but it was funny." Ken laughed.

"Shut up." I could almost see Kim sneering, and I heard her stalk off as my breath picked up.

Gradually, something built up in my head. I didn't know if it was influenced by what had just happened, and then piled up on the meltdown in the car that morning, but I lost it. I didn't know what else I had to do but to scream. I screamed loud and clear, so loud that it hurt my own eardrums. But I took a deep breath and just kept screaming. Heads turned, people covered their ears and teachers poked their heads out of doors. I couldn't believe that so many people thought I was a poor, helpless wench. Was I really that pathetic and small? So inadequate and meager? I was like a pawn on a chess set - the most worthless and cheap piece there was. People could pick me up and throw me to the side, and just find another object to replace me.

"I AM NOT A LOST CAUSE!" I smashed my hands against the lockers, throwing my books across the hallway and continuing to screech.

"Katherine!" I felt hands, grabbing at me, and I violently tugged and pulled, refusing to slow down. I was so angry – I could feel myself shaking like a washing machine that was about ready to explode. I felt like collapsing and detonating at the same time. "Katherine! Stop!"

There were four sets of hands, and then the teachers got involved. I didn't realize that I was crying until I tried to run down the hallway and my vision blurred. Nick and Daniel managed to calm me down for the time in between classes, and finally my breaths coordinated and I was in a somewhat normal state again.

"Katherine, you gotta calm down." Daniel mumbled into my ear, and I could feel his hands clenching and unclenching at my arms. Nick was holding my other shoulder, making sure that I didn't move from their tight grasp.

Yes, I was like a pawn in a chess set. But you could never have a full, beautiful chess set without a proper set of pawns. 

* * *

"You know, who asked her to hang out with us anyways? We didn't need her little judgments all the time."

It was now the lunch period, and we were still hung up on Lindsay's overnight change. Not that any of us really blamed her – something like that would change anyone in a heartbeat.

"My life ain't a lost cause, y'know? Hers is." Kim frowned and slurped on her drink, narrowly avoiding my eyes. I heaved a sigh and sat back in the chair, bringing my knees to my chest. After such a traumatic morning, I really wasn't expecting my luck to change at all. And clearly, Kim hadn't been listening to Lindsay's rant. All of us had potential to be something great, a couple of us just had commitment issues.

"She's just a big baby. I told you guys that from day 1. It's like hangin' out with my grandma." Ken agreed. It seemed to me like we were all making excuses as to why they _didn't _need Lindsay, and how they hadn't liked her in the first place. We all knew that for the while that we had had her for, she had been on hell of a ride.

"Yeah, well, little miss perfect doesn't know what I'm gonna do with my life. She doesn't know what my plans are." Daniel scoffed. I raised a brow. What _was _he going to do with his life? As far as I was concerned, Daniel enjoyed pissing people off and narrowly avoiding the law. He lived life in the fast lane – something that most modest employees didn't tend to do. So I was curious to hear about these plans that he had apparently made for himself.

"What the hell are your plans?" Ken voiced my thoughts.

Daniel shared a reproachful glance with Nick. "I gotta lot of plans." He tried to make it seem like it wasn't worth explaining, but once again, we all knew that he had nothing planned. It was just big talk to ease the loss of a friend.

"Like?" Ken urged. Him and I shared the same skeptical look on our faces. Daniel was backed into a corner.

"Who are you, my guidance counselor?" Daniel avoided our questioning, and I let out a breathy laugh, shaking my head. This was so sad. "What are you gonna do?" Daniel jutted his chin out to Ken.

"I'm gonna wait for my dad to die, so I can inherit his company. Then I'm gonna sell it and move to Hawaii." Ken grinned.

"Great plan." Daniel didn't seem like he was telling the truth.

"I don't hear anything better comin' outta you."

"Well," Kim spoke up for the second time. "I'm gonna be like a lawyer, or something. I'm gonna put the police on trial, and I'm gonna get guys outta jail…" Kim trailed off, clearly not having thought this through before. My stomach was sinking with each one of my friend's so called 'plans'. Were we all just as dismal as we seemed? This was despairing to listen to.

"Yeah, maybe you could break Daniel outta there." Ken teased. Obviously he wasn't thinking on the same track as me.

"Screw you man," Daniel narrowed his eyes at the boy across from him. "I'm not going to jail."

"Okay," Ken challenged him yet again. "What _will _you be doin'?"

"Plenty." Daniel's eyes were still narrowed, his tone confronting and denouncing. "Now if you're done grilling me, Mr. Rosso, why don't you give me a dollar so I can go buy some sno-balls."

I watched him walk off after Ken had given him a dollar, shaking my head yet again. What a liar. He didn't have any idea what he was doing. And the saddest part about the whole situation was that he wouldn't even admit it.

"You guys," Nick looked around nervously once Daniel had left. "I'm tellin' you – it's not about the accident. Lindsay's really depressed that I broke up with her. She's gotta get over it though, y'know?"

At his statement, I started to laugh out loud. Nick turned to me, frowning. "What?" His voice sounded dejected.

"Really? You idiot!" I laughed even harder. "I know that you're mourning, but jesus! You really think that you're more important to her than her parent's car?! She doesn't give a shit about you, baby! Wake up!" I tossed a French fry at him, making him flinch. "You're the one still down in the dumps. Come on man, she broke up with you in the first place – we all know that." I shook my head. Kim was glaring at me, but I gave her a 'what, someone needed to tell him', look, and she turned her eyes back to the curly haired boy.

"So I guess you're gonna be a psychiatrist?" Kim fixed him with a sarcastic look. She may not have been as blunt as I was with her actions and words, but she could be a bitch in her own way.

"No," Nick muttered, still a bit out of it from my speech. "I'm gonna be a DJ, man. And – and maybe a lumberjack."

I put my face in the palm of my hands. If anyone was looking for an example of a stoner, we had a perfect Exhibit 'A' right here. 

* * *

The next day, I had the unfortunate pleasure of running into Lindsay on the way to French class in her awful blue sweater. She had those stupid clips in her hair that actually seemed like they made her care about which strands went where. I tried to pass her without looking her in the eye – she _had_ told me that my life was a lost cause after all – but she stopped me. I looked down when I felt a tug, and saw her hand pulling at my sleeve. My gaze drifted up her awful matching turtleneck until they met her eyes.

"Katherine, I'm sorry." Lindsay's face was a mixture of regret and shame, but I didn't know whether to trust her or not. She had total liberty to call me a whore and go running off. For the first time in awhile, I was intimidated by her. "I heard about what happened after I left," She continued on to say. "That was my fault, and I'm sorry."

I didn't move, nor did I say anything. It was like my brain couldn't register what she was saying. It didn't want to accept her apology. Was she lying to me? Why was she apologizing now? Was she going to do it all over again?

"It wasn't you." I blurted, and then backtracked when Lindsay frowned, confused.

_Baby steps, sweet cheeks. _My head reminded me.

"I mean," I stuttered. "You were right. We don't know what we're doing – we have no idea what we're doing. And…we're scared. A-and I was just angry that you were right." I looked down, not wanting to meet her eyes. I was always wrong – always in the wrong. Always on the receiving end.

"No," Lindsay tugged me aside from the rush of students, her tone now sickly sweet. She sounded like a mother tending to a wounded child. "You're not a lost cause. None of you are. I was just angry. I mean, after all, Daniel _did _get me into a lot of trouble."

I nodded, still not looking her in the face.

"I don't want to stop talking to you, Katherine." Lindsay dipped her head down a bit, and I raised my head to finally stare at her. "You're really nice, and it's not your fault that you have the problems that you do."

I knew what she meant. Someone must have told her about my parents, my house and why I always had bruises. Why I smoked, why I vomited every day and why I had bad anxiety. Gossip travelled, especially on the information superhighway that was McKinley High School.

"I don't wanna stop talking to you, either." I mumbled, and we both shared reluctant smiles after a little bit.

Maybe she wasn't going to sit at the same table as me anymore, or maybe she wasn't going to always hang out with me on the weekends, but hey, if we were on good terms and she wasn't pissed off at me – I was happy. 

* * *

"You're alright though? He didn't hit you too hard?" Daniel cast a sideways glance at me again as we made our way across the campus of the school. It was a couple days later, and things between my parents and I had gotten out of hand. Most of the time my stepfather would just grunt when I walked by him in the morning, but the odd morning – like this one – he would stop me and 'have a word'. He would accuse me of the standard crap – stealing money, booze or even clothing, and then beat me around a bit before I left for school.

The more I fought, the more bruises I got.

"Yeah, I'm fine." I crossed my arms and huffed, making a face. This morning, Rick had chosen to whack me a couple times with an umbrella that he had found lying around, and as a result my arms were quite sore and purple.

"Alright," Daniel seemed dubious. "But if he does somethin' like that again – you come straight to my place, like usual."

I nodded my head quickly, and we were almost to the other side of the lawn when Daniel stopped. I retraced my steps and found him staring down at Harris, a sophomore who was known for his words of wisdom and nerdiness.

"You're not gonna beat me up, are you?" He glanced up at Daniel, not seeming intimidated at all by my friend's tough stature.

"No." Daniel laughed. I smiled at Harris, noticing his 'Dungeons and Dragons' handbook. I had heard a couple of geeks talking about it, but had never bothered to try out the game myself.

"Whaddya readin'?" Daniel pointed at the book, not having heard of it before.

"The – uh, 'The Monster Manual'. It's a 'Dungeons and Dragons' handbook. Do you play?" Harris looked up at Daniel after asking the rhetorical question. I half expected Daniel to scoff and kick the boy's book away, but Daniel replied quite simply with a 'no'.

"You should." Harris suggested. "You would make a good dungeon master, I can tell."

"Yeah? Thanks." I could tell Daniel had no idea what that meant, but he genuinely took it as a compliment. "Can I ask you something?" My friend sank to the ground in front of the nerd, and I took heed.

"Sure." Harris nodded and placed his book on the grass.

"What do you make of me?" He held out a hand, as if to say 'here, take a free pass'.

"Excuse me?" Harris frowned, his brows contorting and shifting his glasses.

"Well," Daniel sighed. "If someone asked you, what do you think of Daniel Desario, what would you say?"

Harris was quiet for a while, most likely contemplating, but Daniel took that as a bad sign and let his insecurities show.

"Would you say he's a loser?" For a tough-ass who beat people up almost every week, it was surprising how many things got into Daniel's head. The boy was filled to the brim with self-doubt.

"No," Harris reassured him. "No, you're not a loser, 'cause you have sex."

I leaned back abruptly; concerned that Harris knew that fact off of the back of his mind. Had he known about any of my…escapades? Perhaps I would ask him what he thought of me afterwards.

"But," Harris continued. "If you weren't having sex, than we could definitely debate the issue."

I saw a smile creeping up on the corners of Daniel's face, a genuine look of happiness that I hadn't seen in awhile. It made me happy to see my friend happy, so I smiled too.

"Congratulations!" I giggled. "You're not a loser!" We high fived.

"You get good grades, huh?" Daniel averted his attention back to Harris.

"Yeah," Harris replied. "Don't you?"

"Nah," Daniel cringed. "I get terrible grades. I don't even like to think about school because I think about how bad I'm really doing. I was even left back once." My friend sighed, and I looked away, suddenly preoccupied with a certain blade of grass. I didn't really like to think about school either.

"Ouch," Harris brought me back to reality. "Well, today is the first day of the rest of your life. Pssht. Someone sent my dad a card with that on it for his sixty fifth birthday."

"Your dad's sixty five?" Daniel muttered, and my head snapped back to Harris.

"He's seventy now. When I'm forty five he'll be a hundred." Harris deadpanned, and I grinned alongside Daniel.

"You know," Daniel's eyebrows raised and I could tell that he was about to say something that he really meant. His facial expressions were different when he was serious. "You're a pretty interesting guy, Harris. Yeah, I mean you do your own thing…you're comfortable with yourself. You got it pretty wired, huh?"

"Yeah," Harris thought for a moment, placing his hand under his chin. "I guess I do."

I smiled at his self-realization, glad that at least one of us had the balls to do whatever the hell we wanted to do and be proud of it.

"I don't have sex, though." Harris offered, and I leaned back in laughter.

Harris, Daniel and I shared a few more thoughtful words before the bell rang and we were off to our next class. Daniel had Latin while I had a spare period, so we parted ways quickly, but not before I turned to Daniel to ask him a burning question.

"Hey, Daniel – what was that all about back there? You know – with Harris?"

Daniel grimaced, as if he didn't want to be reminded of the heartfelt conversation minutes ago. I didn't know why – I had been there. "I dunno," He sighed. "I guess…the whole Lindsay thing just kinda rattled me. I feel dumb, y'know? Like I got nowhere to go."

I cocked my head and frowned. He was starting to sound like someone very familiar…someone who had lost hope and was wandering aimlessly looking for more and more new entertainment…stuck in a loop of torture and drugs and alcohol and nicotine. He was starting to sound like me. My eyes widened at my epiphany, and Daniel's brows knitted.

"What?" My friend questioned.

"Oh my god." I whispered. "You sound like me."

"I what?" Daniel leaned closer to me.

"You sound like me, Daniel. You sound like me – and that's not a good thing." I started to back away.

"Hey!" Daniel grabbed me by the arm, and I flinched when he squeezed the healing bruises. "Oh shit - sorry. Hey listen, I don't sound like you – 'cause I think different. We're both kinda lost. I just wanna get on the right track. I thought Harris might help."

That didn't help whatsoever.

"But Daniel, once you start thinking like this – it's…" I didn't know how to describe it. "It's bad."

Daniel grinned that mischievous grin that made me think that he knew the answer to every question in the world. "The difference between you and me, Welsh: I wanna get better."

He let me go and I watched him walk off to class, a bit puzzled by his words. I tried to shake it off, but even when I plopped down next to Kim in the library and she started ranting about University, Daniel's words were playing in my head.

_'I wanna get better.' _

"Katherine?"

"Yeah?" I suddenly came to, realizing that I had been dazing off for the last couple of minutes.

"I was asking if you wanted to go to the scrimmage with me."

"Oh, the math thing?" I frowned. Why would Kim ever want to go to that? I had tried to sit in on one once, and hated the effects that the nerds had on me. Although we – the freaks - were on a considerably higher social category than they were, they still made me feel stupid. No – they made me feel like an complete and utter idiot, like a moron and a pathetic dimwit all stuck together in a blender and forced to mould. They made me feel like I was a molasses student; designed to slow people down. Like a tumor. Long story short (too late) they made me want to shoot something. Preferably myself.

"Yeah, the math thing." Kim nodded, and suddenly it clicked. _Lindsay. _

"Sure." I agreed without a second thought and surprisingly, for the next hour and a half, we were completely silent. We actually tried to do our work. Granted, it probably wasn't doing anything for my 58 average, but hey, it was nice to sit with a friend who you didn't always have to be talking to. It was the special kind of silence. 

* * *

Walking into the math scrimmage was kind of like walking into the cafeteria all over again, except there were more nerds than anyone else in the room, and all the chairs were facing them like some sort of satanic ritual. Kim and I wearily entered, almost scared of anyone else seeing us. We cast nervous smiles to Lindsay, and then placed ourselves at the back row of chairs.

"Nick?" I heard my friend say from beside me, and my head flipped to my right, where I saw our familiar stoner friend sitting just a couple feet away.

Nick sat up, seemingly surprised that he had been spotted. "What are you doing here?" His lazy tone had an underlined sense of nerve to it.

"What are _you _doing here?" Kim retaliated.

"I was just – uh," Nick stuttered. "Killin' some time."

I nodded sarcastically. As expected, Nick was mourning the loss of his beautiful, smart girlfriend. It was a given. Him, Kim and I shared a couple more awkward moments, but then Nick raised himself out of his chair.

"Well, I gotta get goin'." He took off in what seemed like a little bit of a rush, and I narrowed my eyes at his retreating form.

"Hey, do you think he was here for Lindsay?" Kim slapped me on the leg and grinned. I smirked back, nodding vigorously. "Oh yeah, by the way, Ken and Daniel are coming. They're stopping at Al's to pick up a new front for Lindsay's car."

"That's awesome!" I grinned. Lindsay would be really happy.

"Yeah?" Kim's eyes lit up. "I hope she'll talk to us again."

A couple of contestants went by, each of them equally matched and one smarter than the other. All of these questions were making my head spin, and I groaned in happiness as one of the girls finally got a question wrong. Lincoln got a couple of points taken away, and I finally felt like I wasn't the only stupid person in the room. Ken and Daniel arrived halfway through some complicated equation, and they dropped the car hood in front of our feet. I grinned as I admired at the shiny white piece of metal. There was something about _new _things, y'know? _Fresh _things. A change.

Finally, it was Lindsay's turn. She uttered a couple of words to the girl beside her, and then stood up to take her place on the chair of doom. We cheered louder than most of the parents, drawing Lindsay's attention to our back row. Her eyes focused on us, and we chose that moment to lift the car hood, grinning. Ken pointed to it excitedly. Lindsay looked confused, then shocked, and then almost crestfallen as she sat in the uncomfortable plastic chair.

"Question one," The announcer began to ask the contestants, shaking the attention away from us. "If the longer diameter of a rhombus is 10, and the large angle is 100 degrees, what is the area of the rhombus?"

After a little moment of silence and only the sound of pens flying across paper, Lindsay raised her hand. The announcer gave her the floor, and I heard the number 42 come out of her mouth.

"Correct!" We all cheered and clapped, Kim cheering louder than anyone else.

There were series of questions after questions, each one of them getting harder and harder as they went along. Lindsay never missed a beat, and seemed to get smarter and smarter with each demand from the announcer. He was baffled as he got to the final questions.

"If arc sign x equals 2 arc co-sign x, than x equals?"

"Damn," Kim muttered from beside me. "I've never felt so stupid in my whole life."

I grimaced at her truthful statement – I could faintly grasp things that the mathletes were saying, but a lot of it was completely flying over my head. Either they were doing quantum physics, or I really needed to start paying more attention in math class.

"Zero point nine." Lindsay's answer brought me back, and the room erupted in cheers as her answer was announced correct.

"Perfect round to McKinley!"

The competition went on and on, and I was nearly passed out on Ken's shoulder until the announcer called out that McKinley had won overall. I jumped as the room exploded with cheers from McKinley. Daniel, Kim, Ken and I had been hoping to catch Lindsay before she was whisked away by her team, but it was too late.

"I hope she's still not mad at us." Daniel sighed as we loaded the hood into the trunk of his car.

"No, I don't think so." I shook my head and slid into the backseat, lighting myself a cigarette.

Ken picked up Nick on the way to the burger joint where his car was parked, and we all drove down together.. Not many words were shared in the back of the car with Daniel and Kim, and I had a feeling that we were all thinking of the same thing. There was something about losing a friend, especially someone that you had been close with for a while. Sometimes you had to lose things to realize how much you truly appreciated them, and in this morose case, Lindsay was the example.

"Hopefully we can still give her the car hood." I muttered, blowing smoke out of the window and watching the houses roll by.

Daniel and Kim didn't say anything, but I knew that we all knew what I was talking about.

When we arrived at our favorite burger place, we ordered enough food for the five of us and sat on the hood of Daniel's car, eating and gazing at the stars. Kim and I leaned shoulder to shoulder, sharing an order of fries and occasionally sipping from each other's pops.

"Hey, do you guys maybe wanna go see a midnight movie? I think there's a foreign film playing at the state theatre." Kim suggested after a while. I was thankful that she hadn't noticed that this was my second cigarette of the night – but perhaps she was letting the extra nicotine slip because it was a tough time for everybody.

"Foreign film?" Nick frowned. "Is that like the kind you hafta read?"

"What's the point?" Ken countered Kim.

"The point is trying not to be a dumbass for once in your life, that's the point." Kim had been affected by the mathletes team just as bad as I had been, so I was keen on going with her if she had planned this movie thing out.

"I'll go." Daniel uttered his first words since we had left the school.

"Thank you, babe."

"Me too." I smiled, and I received a kiss on the cheek and an arm around the shoulders.

"Okay," Ken shrugged, sipping on his pop. "But it better not be about a guy who talks a lot."

Kim and I laughed – what in the world would we do if we didn't have Ken? Right at that moment, we heard a light female voice coming from just around the corner. A familiar figure approached, and I rubbed my eyes, wondering if I had been slipped any drugs. It was Linsday!

Daniel sat up from his spot on the hood, almost as if he had been waiting for Lindsay to make him feel better, and the general morale suddenly boosted a bit. Was this an apology or a regrouping? Was she here to insult us or to collect her car hood?

"Hey! What's up?" Kim smiled, and I gave Lindsay an encouraging look as well.

"Nothin'." Our old friend shrugged. It was nice to see the familiar army jacket around her shoulders again. I had always liked that army jacket. "What're you guys up to?"

"Nothin'." Ken answered the exact same way that Lindsay had responded.

"Actually," Kim dipped her head a little bit. "We were just about to go see a foreign film."

"Cool." Lindsay nodded. She had most likely eavesdropped on the entire conversation, and was visibly aware of how stupid we were feeling after watching her pound Lincoln's ass during the math competition.

"Y'know," Kim defended, not aware of that fact. "Just because."

"Can I come with you guys?"

We all nodded, and I grinned and giggled a bit. There was a small feeling of happiness starting in the pit of my stomach, and even in the cool autumn night, I was feeling warm and giddy inside.

"Yeah, sure." Ken nodded. "Can we borrow your dad's car?"

"Oh, Ken." Kim groaned, rolling her eyes.

"Shut up, Ken." Daniel grunted, focusing his eyes on Lindsay. It was like he didn't want anything to ruin this perfect moment. So many people had left his life and abandoned him, so many people had told him he was a failure and yelled and him and then just left him to wallow in his feelings that he had grown used to the fact that perhaps nobody truly wanted him. It was wonderful to see that he wanted the moment where someone was actually coming back to him and accepting him for who he was. Not only that, but they wanted to continue to be around him and valued him for who he was.

"C'mon Lindsay, you can ride with Kim and me." Daniel hopped off of the hood and got into the driver's seat.

"Oh, gee, thanks." I snapped jokingly and pretended to be upset as I got in the car with Nick and Ken. "Thank you for sacrificing me to planet Jupiter and Bob Marley over here."

There was a chorus of laughs, and we drove off to the cinema almost feeling like the missing slice in our pizza was back again. Like the last satisfying puzzle piece, or a missing ingredient for a cake mix, or a matching pair of socks.

It was…balanced. Safe. Warm and friendly. Lindsay made us equal. 

* * *

"Whaddya think _you_ wanna do?" Daniel shifted so he was leaned against the wall, legs bent to accommodate his position. After going to the movies, we had dropped Lindsay and Kim off, and then headed home. I had decided to stay with Daniel again– I wasn't feeling like going back to my house tonight.

"I dunno," I shrugged, glad that Daniel's mother didn't care about cigarettes in the house. We had been chain smoking for the last couple of minutes. "So many people have told me that I'm gonna be a crackhead prostitute I'm startin' to think it's true."

Daniel took a very long drag of his cigarette, frowning. "You know, you don't have to listen to them. You are what you wanna be."

"Deep, Desario. Deep." I snorted.

"What?" He hit me on the arm and grinned, showing off his brilliant white teeth. Daniel had always had the most ridiculous of grins ever since he was a child. I remembered when he would do that silly face where he showed off his full set of teeth and made everyone giggle.

"Oh hey, I wanted to ask," Daniel's face turned serious, and I knew that the topic of conversation was about to be shifted. "How's your head?"

"My head?" I turned to him with a curious look, holding my nearly burnt out cigarette between the tips of my fingers.

"Yeah," My friend repeated, pointing at his skull. "Your head."

_Oh. _

"I'm fine. Last time I wanted to shoot myself was months ago." I muttered and scoffed, finishing my cigarette. I didn't feel like smoking anymore. The last thing that I wanted to think about at the moment was death.

"Yeah? Well do you wanna get better?"

"Daniel, wh -" I turned around and faced him with a funny look. "Why do you even care?"

"Because you're my friend." He looked up at me from his place on the floor, the innocent puppy dog eyes staring up at me. I sighed and tossed my stub into the garbage can and rejoined him on the floor.

"To be honest, I don't know if I want to get better, y'know? I kinda like this." I sighed, lacing my hands together. "I'm really addicted to feeling like shit. It's – it's a part of me. But at the same time I kinda wanna get better. I wish I had a good life, like Lindsay or something – but my parents hate me and I'm stupid and I'm not a good person! I'm a lost cause." I scrunched up my hair in frustration, not paying attention to Daniel anymore. This was no longer an explanation for him – I was ranting for myself, for anyone who was willing to listen. "Sometimes I feel like I should just kill myself – I don't know what I want to do and I don't matter to anyone. I would be better off dead anyway. I really don't think that anyone would miss me if one day I decided to jump into traffic. I always feel like shit. Shit, shit shit."

By the last sentence my face had curved into a permanent frown, disappointment – mainly with myself – etched into my features. I was pulled into a hug, and I flopped into Daniel's arms willingly. Sometimes it was good to have a human cushion.

"I care about you." Daniel's chest rumbled as he spoke. He was silent for a couple minutes before speaking again. "Kim cares about you, Nick cares about you, Ken cares about you, and Lindsay cares about you. Heck, my mom even cares about you. You're not a lost cause, you're just lost."

I scrunched up my face and willed myself not to cry. I knew that he spoke the truth – the sole reason why I was still standing today was because of my friends. Ken and Kim and Nick and Daniel and even Lindsay now – they were what kept throwing water over the fire that was spreading in my brain. It was like a continuously healing bruise; one that kept forming and forming, but someone kept putting polysporin on it.

"Let's go to bed." Daniel pulled us both up and guided me to the mattress. I sighed and pulled off my jeans, feeling my eyes start to drift closed as soon as my head hit the pillow.

_Today is the first day of the rest of your life. _Harris's words rang through my head as I drifted off.


	13. Chapter 12 - The Garage Door

**Chpt 12 - 'The Garage Door'**

**( cgi/set?id=102514206)**

The days where I felt like I was a worthless piece of shit started like this. My mother was yelling, my stepfather was yelling, and things were being flung around monkey shit. These things included piece of canned food, bread, bottles of beer and paper towels. It would have been funny if it weren't so sad, really - two grown adults throwing little white sheets at each other. The paper towels didn't even take flight; they just sort of floated down miserably to the ground and lay there, never to be used again.

I thought that I was going to get away without any bruises, but unfortunately a tray that my mother had decided to toss to the side landed smack in the middle of my stomach as I was reaching for my coat. I doubled over in pain, yelling out a profanity.

"What did you just say?" My stepfather pointed an accusing finger at me.

I barred my teeth in anguish and fury, muttering out an excuse as to how I needed to get to school. Rick said nothing. I left without a complaint and hoped that nothing was bleeding. Unfortunately, later in the day my ribs felt like King Kong had decided to learn how to march on them. Ironically, Daniel, Nick, Ken and I were sitting on the bleachers watching the marching band around break time.

In my opinion, the marching band was the most entertaining thing I had ever seen without paying a cent. I was thrilled that my school offered something so ridiculous and stupid for free. It was hilarious to see a bunch of grown kids trying to read music and walk in formation at the same time.

Pretty soon we were all starting to get bored, and I was on my last few puffs of my cigarette. Ken was mouth farting along to the song, while Nick was making faces at the band.

"What are they doing to this song?" He complained.

"What song is it?"

"It _was _Chicago's _'25 or 6 to 4' _but now it's totally unrecognizable." Nick was looking very upset, with his disheveled hair and somber face.

"Why do you even know this song?"

"'Cause it's a good song!" Nick retorted just as Kim and Lindsay pulled up, laughing. I didn't even bother to ask what they were giggling about.

"Oh my god – guys, check out the pizza faced dork with the trombone. Why doesn't he just pop those things?" Kim made a snarky comment on some poor boys acne.

"I think if he did he'd die of blood loss." Daniel teased along.

"Oh, oh here we go, look!" Ken pointed out. "It's tuba girl! Hey, hey! Your tuba is so big and sexy! It makes me hot listening to it, baby! Play us some Billy Joel! Yeah!" Ken yelled out to the girl with the large brass instrument. It seemed like he was teasing, but I wasn't quite sure why he was paying so much attention to the marching band in the first place. It was him who had suggested the idea of us watching them, which was strange because he never really took interest in any of the school's extra curricular activities.

"At least she knows how to play an instrument." Lindsay dutifully noted.

"That's not playin' an instrument," Ken defended himself. "That's like – that's like blowing into a toilet."

I burst out laughing at his statement, imagining a group of nerdy ninth graders kneeling in rows blowing into toilets. I kneeled forward, allowing my stomach to clench in joy as I howled with laughter.

"Watch it, Welsh! Dammit!" Daniel shoved my cigarette away from his pants, concerned about me burning them.

Lindsay scoffed after my little laugh attack. "Sounds better than your singing, Ken."

"Oooohhh, burn, baby burn." I ruffled Ken's hair as Daniel kicked him in the back.

"Oh, Lindsay, here's an idea. How about you break up our band so you can make out with Nick?" Ken shot back, deciding to fight nasty. "Oh wait, you already did that."

"Shut up, man!" Nick smacked Ken on the arm angrily, leaning down to apologize to a crestfallen Lindsay. I rolled my eyes – apparently my lunchtime 'wake-up, Lindsay doesn't care about you' façade hadn't hit him hard enough.

* * *

After a fair amount of debate, our little congregation had decided to meet at Denny's afterschool. It wasn't too expensive, and it was one of the few restaurants in town that didn't prohibit smoking 10 feet away from its doors.

There were some interesting people here tonight, some of which included an old couple that had been bickering ever since we had sat down, a very upset looking businessman, and a group of kids celebrating a birthday party.

"Hey, sorry I'm so late." Lindsay leaned on our back seat a couple minutes into our conversation. I smiled up at her from my spot in between Nick and Daniel, letting her know that she was welcome and in no rush.

"Yeah, well, thanks to you, we had to cancel our dinner plans." Ken teased sarcastically. Ever since this afternoon he'd been overly sarcastic and sour – and that was saying something for Ken.

"Can you ever not be sarcastic?" Nick scoffed at his friend.

"I'm sarcastic?" Ken pretended to be shocked, further proving Nick's statement.

"Alright Andopolis, come on. We're gettin' some more fries." Daniel ushered Nick from his spot, and I moved to give them leeway, sitting back down with Lindsay.

As Lindsay sat back down across from Kim, Ken received a harsh glare from her. Lindsay looked at him coolly as he made an excuse about having to pee, and I didn't catch on about why they had sent him off until Kim asked Lindsay if she still had feelings for Nick.

"What is the deal with you two?" She leaned her head down and put her arms together, like it was a huge deal that Nick and Lindsay were still bitter towards each other.

"I'm gonna have a smoke." I muttered, getting up and ignoring Kim's protests of 'only one cigarette, Katherine!' I didn't want to gossip or plan about how Lindsay was feeling, nor did I want to engage in any 'girl-talk' that was going to happen between the two of them. I had always been an outsider, an awkward third wheel to everything – and the awkward outsider I was going to stay. I didn't particularly like change, so I accepted that I was who I was and headed outside of the restaurant to light up.

It wasn't that I didn't like talking to my friends - female friends specifically - but sometimes it got to the point where the plotting went over the top. Kim would devise these plans and advertise them like she was the expert on relationship. Her and Daniel were nowhere near healthy, but apparently she felt as if she could hand out information like rolling papers. I scoffed and took a long drag of my cigarette, thinking back at the time where she had advocated for Heidi to make the first move on Nick. If she hadn't said anything, perhaps the whole fiasco wouldn't have begun in the first place.

Snowball effect.

I scoffed again and shook my head. It was almost comical how these things turned out. Just like this morning, when the tray had decided to impale itself into my stomach. I didn't even know that my mother was that strong. My abdomen and ribcage were still very sore – it felt like I had been at the gym the whole day and was now suffering the side effects.

Once I finished my cigarette in peace and made my way back inside, my friend had began to eat. Thankfully no one had noticed that I hadn't ordered anything, and I sat down at the end of the booth across from Daniel. He was looking as per usual – tired, greasy haired and dark bags under his eyes. It was amazing – I had been sleeping in the same bed as him up to recently and we both had the exact same dark circles. Perhaps it was the mattress?

As I tuned out the weird conversation with my friends, I played with my fingernails underneath the table and thought about my sore ribs once again. My brain jumped from one thought to the next, flying by the pain and hours of school until I thought of my mother. I tried to avoid cringing, thinking about how she hadn't said a word when the tray flew straight into my torso. Of course – I hadn't been expecting her to say anything. It still hurt to know that she didn't really care about me.

But of course, my stepfather was no better. He, in fact, had been the one to start the entire argument. I remembered trying to sleep at around three in the morning, asking myself why I hadn't stayed at Daniel's for the night. Rick had been very concerned about a certain mailman who kept delivering bills for bars that my mother had been drinking at, and instead of worrying about how to pay the price off he'd gone batshit crazy on my mother instead. It was an inferno until I had gotten out of the house, and unfortunately I had the marks to prove it.

_Oh, I could chop his head clean off. I could fry his guts in motor oil and feed his fingers to rabid dogs. What a slimy, no-good, fucking piece of shit asshole Rick is, he doesn't even -_

"Katherine, are you gonna eat?" Kim's sudden question shook me out of my trail of thoughts, and I jumped a bit. Nobody had paid me any mind for the last couple of minutes, and my brain wasn't exactly calmat the moment.

"No, I gotta pee." I sniffed and stood up from the table abruptly, thanking whoever designed these diners for having installed booths that weren't too complicated to exit out of. I needed another cigarette. No one said a word as I left, and I decided that I was going to take a detour when no one was looking. There was a back exit to the restaurant, and I circled my way again to the designated smoking area in the front.

_Why don't you? You could, you know. You could just take a nice big butcher's knife, or maybe one of those hack saws. If you cut off his head first, he won't be able to scream. Just one clean swipe; smooth like butter. Bastard wouldn't feel a thing - sleeps like a lumpy mattress anyway. _

"What a fucking piece of shit." I muttered and shook my head again, trying to clear the nasty thoughts from my head. But they came creeping back with the next drag of nicotine.

_And there's this lovely thing called an axe, you know? It's a long stick with a nice big blade at the end. It's too bad they don't sell a lot of scythes in Chippewa, but what the hell – lumberjack tools will do. Anyway, just go to Lindsay's fathers store and pick up one of those – make up some funny little excuse – ooh! Here's one…you could tell Mr. Weir that your family is going camping!_

"Isn't that funny." I laughed, suddenly amused at the thought of my 'family' going camping together. We wouldn't last for five seconds in a tent together – heck, we would probably catch ourselves on fire on the drive there.

_Either way, you could buy that axe no problem! And in the middle of the night…WHAM! You know? Or you could get some rat poison – slip it into the tequila – or maybe even the water tank! You could kill both of them off! Blame it on bad piping, nasty infections - anything! Nice clean murder, you get to live with Daniel, no problem. They'd be gone. Just gone. Yeah, wouldn't that be a nice idea – to have both of them gone? They're pieces of dirt anyway. No one cares about them, you don't care about them. Come on – be the bigger person. End their sorry, pathetic little lives. It's not like they were going to do anything anyway. You know, sometimes it's best to just - _

"Katherine?" The tuba girl was standing in front of me, and I hadn't realized that my cigarette was half burnt out. With the gears turning in my head, I hadn't noticed Amy had been standing in front of me for a while.

"Amy!" I smiled, one hundred percent unenthusiastic about seeing her. "How are ya?"

"I'm good. You okay?" She tilted her head to the side. "You seem a little out of it."

"Yeah," I laughed, hoping to convince her that I hadn't been planning the death of my stepfather. I was seriously considering heading down to A1 Sporting Goods right then and there. "I'm great."

"Alright," She gave me a reluctant grin and headed inside. "See ya."

I hadn't even noticed that she was in full marching gear until I watched her walk inside. Amy was a nice girl, but she had a fairly prominent backbone – which could either work to her advantage, or it could be her downfall.

I decided to scratch the murder plan of Rick until it was further confirmed, so I waited for my friends outside and finished my cigarette. Hopefully Kim wouldn't freak out about my second cancer stick of the day.

* * *

The next day wasn't as bad as the first, fortunately today my ribs had begun to feel better, and I had felt safer – and well rested – after a night on Nick's couch. Tomorrow night would be spent at Ken's, and then hopefully Daniel's.

Nick and I had a pleasant walk to school that morning, sharing a joint between us as we treaded lightly to first period. It was known that we had a guest speaker in the gym, so for us it was a given free period. The teachers never took attendance for guest speakers.

"You know, sometimes I think that my dad _really _doesn't like me." Nick drawled, lifting the blunt to his lips one last time before we entered school property. It was around nine in the morning, so thankfully no one was around yet and didn't peg us for smoking.

"I think you're a little late on that ride, my friend." I patted him on the back and proceeded through the double doors, letting him finish the joint himself. He looked like he needed it more than I did.

* * *

"Oh hey! You know that they're doing '_Laser Floyd'_ at Laser Dome tomorrow night!" Nick exclaimed as him, Daniel, Ken and I walked through the doors after second period. Both of our highs had worn off by now, but clearly the effects of the marijuana were still in his brain. I hadn't been to the Lazar Dome in years.

"Oh yeah, I heard that." Ken's sarcasm graced us once again. "It was in _all _the newspapers."

"Oh, like you're too good for a laser show." Nick complained.

"Man, why do I need to go to a laser show when I can make my own?" Ken retorted. "In my mind." He added, pointing to his curly mop of hair. I rolled my eyes.

"Come on, guys! It's Floyd!" He proceeded to quote from 'Another brick in the Wall II'. "_If you don't eat your meat, you can't have any puddin'_!"

"Alright!" Daniel pushed him away, and I shook my head in disappointment.

"I don't even wanna be seen with you." I muttered, earning me a smack in the back of the head.

"It's Floyd! Come on, they're not gonna do the laser show forever!" Nick kept trying to convince us. Daniel reluctantly agreed.

"Go where?" Kim popped up next to me, and Daniel wrapped an arm around her.

"Oh, to, uh – Laser Dome." Daniel tried to pretend like it wasn't a big deal, but I knew that this mattered to Kim. Daniel and Wendy Franklin had actually got it on at Laser Dome when Daniel and Kim were broken up one time, and Kim had hated Laser Dome ever since.

"You're taking me to Laser Dome?" Kim pushed her boyfriend away and made a face, just as I had suspected.

"Yeah, be happy." Daniel tried to convince her and play it off.

"Isn't Laser Dome just a bunch of squiggly lights on a ceiling?" Lindsay looked up at the school's ceiling, as if she was trying to compare the two. She had a valid point – you _were_ paying to see little squiggly lights on a ceiling.

"No, it's not just a bunch of squiggly lights on a ceiling." Nick imitated her with a very frustrated look on his face. "What is wrong with you people?! Laser Dome is a metaphysical experience!"

"Yeah, especially if you have your hand up Wendy Franklin's shirt." Kim sped up her pace, getting away from Daniel's grasp.

"I don't even know what metaphysical means." I scrunched my face up, worrying about my English grade for a couple of seconds. If Nick knew vocabulary that I didn't, it could become a problem.

We stopped outside of the cafeteria, and Kim turned to Lindsay. "So, do you wanna go or not?"

"Yeah! I mean -" Lindsay suddenly stopped herself, glancing at Nick. Something changed in her expression, and she quickly reorganized herself. "Maybe, I dunno." She shrugged and gave a careless expression.

"Is it just me, or did it get a little chilly in here?" Ken noted, hands in his back pockets. I rolled my eyes – I had clearly missed something.

"I'm gonna go get something to eat." Lindsay turned and strutted off into the cafeteria, Kim close on her heels. I turned to my left and saw Nick, Ken and Daniel leaving for Stackie's. Uh oh – caught in the middle. I whimpered, not wanting to be left behind, before following Lindsay and Kim.

I caught up with them just as Kim was ranting about Wendy Franklin again. "…let's just say she's a cheap little slut that Daniel made out with when we were broken up."

"But it's over with her, right?" We all grabbed food, and I dutifully listened in on their conversation.

"Ugh, Lindsay - that's not the point! He _did_ it with her at the Laser Dome! Now he wants to go there with me?" Kim scoffed and continued to nit pick her food. I pretended like I was concentrating hard on what to get to eat, but truthfully Nick and I had eaten a pretty big breakfast, so I was hell bent on not eating for the next couple meals.

"So are you going?" Lindsay seemed a bit confused, still focused on Kim.

"Well yeah, I mean, what else am I gonna do?" Kim shrugged, now seeming indifferent. It was strange – she had such a strange bias towards the Laser Dome, but she was more willing to hang out with friends and be unhappy than to stay alone. I didn't blame her – I would rather cry in the back of a limousine instead of laughing on a bike.

"Ugh," Kim looked completely revolted at the sight of the cafeteria food. It was as if she had just noticed that it was in front of her. "This is disgusting. I can't eat this." She stormed off, and I was glad to have a little headway to smoke my cigarette in peace. The patio was nearly empty, and I lit up hoping that Kim wouldn't come looking for me.

* * *

It was detention, and I was utterly, irrevocably, bored out of my skull. There was nothing to do – I didn't understand the Science homework, I didn't understand the Math homework, and I didn't understand the French homework. The only think that I could do was read a stupid book for English, and I had no desire to read through Romeo and Juliet.

"If you had a boyfriend," I looked up to see Kim leaning over to a boy who sat in between her and Daniel. "Who humped a slut like Wendy Franklin in a certain place, let's just say the _Laser Dome_," She leaned further over to make sure that Daniel was listening on the other side. "Would you really wanna hang out there?"

The poor boy in between looked very confused, and he seemed to catch on that the conversation was not truly intended for him. He looked over to Daniel, expecting the answer.

"She's got a point." He whispered.

"Wouldn't you be," Kim started again. "A little wigged out at the idea that your boyfriend did _things_ with the slut in the very same seat that you could be sitting in?"

The boy looked over to Daniel again, who smirked and left him for the wolf. In a desperate attempt to escape their estranged conversation, the overweight boy raised his hand in the air and requested to go to the bathroom. Kim and Daniel resumed nasty conversation as usual, fighting over Daniel was 'full of crap' or not. It was excruciating to hear them argue, and as per usual it amounted to nothing – Kim kept filing her nails angrily, and the subject was nowhere near being solved. By the end of detention I was about ready to shoot something; either myself or everyone around me.

"Don't forget, Welsh. Laser Dome tonight." Daniel flipped around in his seat to point at me just as the bell rang, signaling the end of detention and another drawn out day. I couldn't even remember why I had received detention, let alone as to why we were going out to Laser Dome tonight. In all honesty, I hadn't eaten lunch and I wasn't planning on eating dinner, so if I passed out while we were watching Laser Floyd I would probably give less of a fuck.

"Yeah, I'll be there." I sneered and shoved all of my things into my bag, making a beeline for the door and rushing to my locker. I wanted to get home before my parents came back from collecting the welfare checks. The checks kept our tiny little house running, and thankfully the government covered child support. But nonetheless, the authorities had stopped checking up on our household, and my parents were free to spend all of our extra money on booze.

As soon as I got through the front door I was greeted with silence and a lot of empty bottles. I waded through the mess on the floor and grimaced at the tray that had planted itself in my stomach a couple days ago, still lying there like the little pathetic piece of metal that it was. I didn't even know why we owned a tray – we didn't cook anything anymore. And to think, when we first moved in the only problems we had were my Rick's smoking and our money. I was on relatively good terms with Rick at the start, but when he started to drink I lost it. Then when my mother joined in I couldn't take it anymore, and I began to drink and smoke myself.

I growled as I violently unpacked my school things and got ready for the Laser Show. It suddenly occurred to me that I barely had anything left in my room at all. The majority of my clothing was spread out around other people's homes, as well as the rest of my belongings. My bed had only one sheet on it, as a result of dragging the covers to Daniel's house one drunken evening, and my cupboard and shelves had never had much on them to begin with.

This wasn't a home – this was a house.

I sighed and looked around for some nicer clothes to wear, trying to re-apply my makeup in the meantime. Giving up after a couple of minutes, I settled on changing my socks (which were the only articles of clothing left in my room anyway) and adding more eyeliner.

"What a rat bastard!" There was wailing from the front of the house, and my head snapped up in alarm. It looked like my 'parents' were home. I grabbed my cigarettes, lighter and rushed to my mother's room. Heaving up the window as quickly as I possibly could, I slipped out of the house and closed it from the outside. My mother would never notice that it wasn't locked, and no one would steal from us – we had nothing left to lose anyway.

I waited until I heard Rick and my mother arrive safely in the dining room, alarmed at the fact that our walls were so paper thin that I could hear everything they were saying. Once I heard them arguing over the amount of money they had received today, I took off running down the road towards Daniel's. I had never wanted to drive a car, perhaps it was the anxiety or maybe the fact that I knew I would never have the money. Daniel was lucky to have a car – granted, his family was in a better financial and emotional situation than mine. They weren't great, but they were better.

Speaking of which, I approached my friends house rapidly with swift footsteps, eagerly making my way up to the front door – which was always open – and headed inside.

* * *

The Laser Dome was just as lame as I remembered it to be a couple years ago. The stupid chairs hadn't been replaced, the crumbling wallpaper hadn't been refurbished, and the place had an overall funky smell that wasn't particularly attractive. Yet, every Friday, wads of people flooded the building in hopes of seducing their significant (or currently non-significant, in Daniel and Kim's case) other. And because of this, Laser Dome continued to make revenue.

I was currently cursing myself for making the ridiculous choice to sit right in the middle of Nick and Lindsay, who were still on fairly awkward terms at the time. I supposed it was lucky that there was an empty seat in the middle so that the situation was somewhat normal, but I didn't like being the meat between the buns. I knew that I was going to have to take several smoke breaks.

Kim was sitting next to Daniel in the row in front of us, looking somber as ever and glaring at her on-and-off again boyfriend every couple of seconds. One row in front of them sat Ken and Amy, who were also seemingly awkward, but handling it better than Lindsay and Nick. I swore I had spotted both of them glancing at each other repeatedly from across my skull. I was going to wring both of them if they didn't say anything to each other by the end of the night. The tension could be cut in half with a knife.

Suddenly, there was a cry from the row in front of us, and Kim stood up vigorously. I could tell when she was pissed because she walked in a different way – it was as if she was marching to war. Her footsteps got heavy, and she gained a steely look in her eyes like there was nothing that could stop her from getting her way in the argument. That was the Kim I was scared of – the Kim that threatened to punch me in the face if I didn't agree with her, or told me to go to hell when I voiced my opinion. I didn't blame her – when someone was angry they didn't have complete control of their brain (I, of all people, would know), but being used to her motherly demeanor and suddenly having it switched on me was a scary concept for my brain to understand.

I leaned forward in my seat, concerned about Daniel. Kim would come back in a couple of minutes – she was like a boomerang when she argued with Daniel, but Daniel liked to lock himself away.

"Hey," I tapped my friend on the shoulder. "Everything okay?"

I was surprised to see him grin and nod. "I'm good, Welsh. You have fun with Romeo and Juliet back there."

I shot him a glare and slumped back in my seat; comforted that he was fine but annoyed that I was still stuck with these lovebirds. Thankfully, the lights dimmed at the perfect moment, and the music started. Nick let out cries of joy, but they were soon quieted when strange country music began to play.

"What the hell is going on?" Nick voiced his confusion. "What happened to Floyd?"

"That's next week, man." A guy in a cowboy had and roughed up jeans from three seats down replied. "Tonight is Southern Rock night! Yeehaw!"

Nick's face fell, but I couldn't help myself. I began to laugh. I let the chuckles build up in my chest and then bubble out of my throat, glad that they were there. I wanted to let everyone know that I was happy – heck, I wanted to raise Hitler from the dead and let him know that I was happy and there wasn't a fucking thing he could do about it. At this point, Lindsay was laughing too, and there was confusion from the rest of our gang.

"I don't – I don't know what happened," Nick stuttered, beginning to snigger at himself and sharing a grin with Lindsay. "It's like I'm in the Twilight Zone."

I shook my head and snorted, decided that it was time for me to exit stage left and take a break from this western monstrosity. There was only so much cowboy music I could take, and I had already taken a majority of it. So I made my way out of the isle and out of the exit, checking my pocket to make sure that I had a trusty pack of Pall Mall's and a lighter. Once confirmed that my nicotine was in the right place, I ventured outside and took five large steps away from the exit before lighting up. My smoking had actually been improving slightly as of lately – Kim's controlling habits were starting to pay off. The craving for nicotine was replaced by any desire to self destruct, which I knew was going to cause trouble for me in the future – but for now I figured it was safer to grab a beer and call it a day instead of getting tar into my lungs. That was the terrifying thing about cigarettes; with drugs or alcohol, it flushed out of your system. Cigarettes stayed in your lungs until you died. The tar that I had inhaled into my crappy lungs would still be there when I was lowered into my coffin – or more likely for me, tossed into a furnace.

On that happy note, I finished my cancer stick and tossed it to the ground, squishing it with the tip of my shoe. I liked my shoes – all of my clothing had been purchased for a meager amount of cash at thrift stores or variety shops. Kim and I had explored the downtown region and tried to find some affordable things before school had started, and I ended up blowing most of my cash on a whole new wardrobe. It was definitely worth the stolen money and the long shopping spree; these clothes were as durable as a rhinoceros hide. Surprising, especially because they had all come from second-hand establishments.

I made my way back into the theatre, winking at the attractive usher and taking my seat in between Nick and Lindsay again. Looking around briefly to assess the status of my friends, I was taken aback when I realized that Nick and Amy's lips were locked passionately. One look at Daniel and Kim and the situation had multiplied. It was then that I took into consideration how unbelievably inconvenient my timing had been.

"I'd be lying if I said this wasn't painful." Nick turned his head to the left, but I couldn't interpret if he was speaking to Lindsay or me. I didn't think it mattered.

**A/N: I want to thank my very first reviewer, GoatEatingToilet (fabulous name, by the way!) for leaving me such a nice message and helping me out with the story – I hope you enjoy this chapter! :) **


	14. Chapter 13 - Chokin' and Tokin'

**Chpt 13 – Chokin' and Tokin'**

**A/N: No vomiting in this chapter - GO KATHERINE! :D **

**( katherine_13/set?id=121157506) **

"What is this?" Nick leaned forward to examine the green clumps of vegetables on display in the cafeteria. It was the lunch hour, and he was already stoned out of his mind. I didn't blame him; report cards were nearing and the pressure was mounting in his household. Nick was only trying to get the fun in while he still could.

"Green spinach." The sour-looking lunch lady replied, quite familiar with Nick's lunchtime endeavors. Like any stoner, he frequently required food to quell his munchies. In fact, I was surprised that none of the cafeteria staff had slapped him silly yet. Nick could become extremely annoying when he wanted to be.

Nick nodded, moving onto the next food and ignoring Daniel and I's groans of annoyance. "And what is this?"

"That's Salisbury steak." Came her irked reply.

"What makes that different from the regular steak?" Nick questioned further, sounding like a private investigator.

"I don't know – the Salisbury sauce, I suppose. You want some?" The poor lady was exasperated. I didn't blame her for looking like a shriveled up prune; anyone who had to serve people like Nick every lunch for 365 days would have to go nuts at some point.

Hm…" Nick hesitated. I could almost envision his eyes growing redder by the second.

"Nikolai," Daniel teased. "It's time to go – let's go."

"Yeah, Nick – Christ, come on." I rolled my eyes and shoved his shoulder, but he ignored me in favor of continuing his charade with the poor old lunch lady. I almost wanted to reach across the countertop and give her a massive hug for having to deal with us crappy kids. We were loud, smelly, noisy, and didn't appreciate half the efforts that the cafeteria staff went to when it came to delivering our food on time.

"You know," Nick went on. "I always noticed that the day after we have Salisbury steak, we always have hamburgers. But then the day after that we always have meatball heroes. And a few days after that we have meatloaf. So is it the same meat? Are you guys recycling the meat?"

"It's different meat." Her voice was flat, with no trace of humor and no shred of patience left in her. Even I was getting tired of Nick's meat analysis. Who cared if they were recycling the meat? Half of us dumped it in the trash, anyway.

"I guess you would have to say that, right?" Nick nodded his head in disapproval, and I found myself rolling my eyes again. Sometimes I could just tell if it was going to be an eye-rolling day or not. Today was definitely turning out positive. Finally, Nick made a 'daring' choice.

"I'll have the Salisbury steak, please." His lips curved into a smirk, and I was glad to see that after that whole mockery he still retained his manners.

"Excellent choice, sir." The lunch lady's sarcasm shone through her dreary blockade, and I found myself grinning. It was nice to see that there was some amount of humanity left in her.

"Alright, yum yum. Some Salisbury dog meat for us, please." Daniel spoke up for the both of us once Nick had made his purchase and went off to grab a table in the crowded cafeteria. The lunch lady gave Daniel a glare and dumped the crap onto our plates, any scrap of tolerance on her face gone. It was scary how fast people could go back and forth, and how sometimes you thought you saw something in someone for a minute, but the next it had totally vanished.

Daniel and I neared the cashier, and I had hoped to get away with only putting some bread and steak on my plate, but Daniel caught me before he paid for us. I was always broke. And hungry.

"Hey, Katherine – no, look; you…no." He shook his head and shoved me back in the direction of the food, pointing at my plate. "Go get something else, I – anything else."

"Wh -" I gave him a look, spreading my arm out slightly. I had never realized my irrational fear of food went this far. I was literally scared to get back in the lunch line and go pick up more food. I didn't want to put more on my plate because I was scared that I was going to eat it. It was about self-control and deciding what to do before you put yourself in a situation where you could potentially lose your control. This was the extent of my eating disorder.

"Come on." Daniel tugged my arm, his voice turning soft. Sometimes Daniel's demeanor would change; his voice would get softer, and he would all around become a kinder person towards anyone and everyone who needed assistance. He understood. I always thought that if you wanted to know what a man was like, you should take a good look at how he treated his inferiors, not his equals.

I wouldn't exactly refer to myself as an inferior, but I was most certainly unstable. Daniel once again assumed the position of the good friend, bless him, and led me back into the lunch line – straight towards the vegetables. The lunch lady didn't look too pleased to see us back, but once he ordered the spinach I could see she was glad to give it away. Once the shlop was lowered onto my plate, Daniel and I headed back towards the cashier.

"Okay, look. That stuff's got loads of vitamins and shit, so I want you to try an' eat it, alright?"

I gulped and stared down at the green growth, frowning with agitation. "I – I'll try." I mumbled.

"That's the spirit." Daniel clapped me on the shoulder, reverting back to his usual self. I forced a smile - which probably came out more as a grimace anyhow - and nodded. We relocated to Nick's table once having purchased our food, and he questioned us as soon as we sat down about his former girlfriend.

"What's wrong with Lindsay?" He stuffed pasta in his face, disregarding the sauce that had spilt on the floor beside him.

_Oh boy._

"I dunno man, she's crazy." Daniel replied.

Before Nick could reply, he caught sight of something in at the side of the cafeteria, and bolted to catch up with the crazy haired drug dealer. I had been smoking much less recently; partly because of the fact that I realized I couldn't bum money off of my friends every day for drugs, and also because I wasn't particularly addicted to it like Nick was. He practically relied on the stuff to get through the day, so it made sense to be that he was suffering withdrawal because of the unfortunate drought in town.

Because of this, it also made sense that he asked us if we had any pot on us the next day while we were eating. Well – while everyone else was eating. I was tucked in between Daniel and Ken, watching them finish their meal. Daniel had given up on making me try and eat today – I just wasn't feeling well and the cafeteria was serving French fries. I'd be damned if I was going to stick my hands into that greasy, salted mess.

"No." Daniel's husky tone replied.

"Cupboard is bare, man." Ken shook his head, and I copied his actions. It was true – I was clean. If Nick was in dire need of cigarettes or alcohol, however, that was one category that I could be endlessly helpful in.

"Yeah?" Nick looked hopeless. "I'm runnin' out real quick – I've been rationing all week. I don't know what I'm gonna do."

"Um," I could tell that Daniel was about to go and say something sarcastic. "Not be stoned?"

Nick laughed in sarcastic disdain before straightening his face. "I'm serious – you guys don't have any pot?" It took him a couple of seconds to realize that one of his friends was holding out on him. "Hey, waittaminute Daniel – you always have pot, man!" Nick pointed a finger towards his friend, who was covering his face beside me. "Daniel, don't be a cheap bastard – I always hook you up!"

"Oh yeah?" Daniel retorted. "When was that, man? You haven't passed a joint in your life."

"Yeah? Well, it's really uncool if you guys are holding out on me."

"We're not." I muttered, meeting Nick's eyes. "I promise."

He frowned at me, and I could tell that he didn't buy it. "Fine." He pushed his chair back in frustration, and walked off muttering something about 'killing Mark'.

"Jeez." Daniel dropped his hand over the back of my chair. "The guys turning into a wastebasket."

"No kidding." Ken and I agreed.

* * *

I never envisioned myself skipping school to play basketball (of all things), but that afternoon instead of attending my Period 3 class, Nick, Lindsay and I decided to cut and head down to the basketball courts. This wasn't very usual for us – separating from the rest of the group without saying anything – but I felt safe with Nick and Lindsay there, so I shook the nerves off and tried my best to play the stupid game. I had never been good at sports; in fact the only team I'd ever participated on was the softball team in second grade. I quit when a ball decided to connect itself with my eye – the bruising took two weeks to go away. It just wasn't worth the risk anymore.

Currently, Nick was kicking both Lindsay and I's asses at hoops. He had an unfair advantage being over six feet tall, so Lindsay and I teamed up against him and eventually managed to gain one point against his whopping seven. It just wasn't fair. For a good half an hour it was like we were kids again – innocent and unaware of how painful and disgusting the world was. I wanted to go around to every child and advise them not to make the certain friends I had, or to advise their mothers against going out to bars every weekend so that they didn't find creepy abusive boyfriends. I wanted to advise all the adolescents I saw that there were things to watch out for in this cruel, hostile environment known as high school. Things that could kill you in a night, like heroin or alcohol. Or things that could kill you slowly, like cigarettes.

"Hey Nick!" I was dragged out of my thoughts by Mark's familiar voice. "The Eagle has landed!"

"Oh – I love the Eagle!" Nick smiled knowingly and immediately turned his attention away from basketball to the drugs Mark was carrying.

"It's going to be 40." I heard them mumble to each other as I continued to shoot hoops. Unlike Lindsay, I knew exactly how to act during a drug deal. If you pretended like you had no idea what was going on and that everything was normal, you were less likely to be noticed – and if you got caught, you could play the innocent. No one would be the wiser.

"See you later, man." I heard Mark leaving, and decided that I would tag along with him for the remainder of the day. I was in no mood to head back to school, and Lindsay and Nick were probably going to go back to the Andopolis household. I was in no mood to see Mr. Andopolis.

"Hey, Mark! Wait up!" I bid my farewells to Lindsay and Nick, running after my dealer. It wasn't every day that I got to interact with my school's main supplier, so I figured I take the chance.

"Katherine!" Mark waited for me at the top of the hill, and wrapped an arm around me when I got there. "How are you holdin' up?"

"Eh," I made a face and lit up a cigarette, wrapping my free arm around his waist as we ventured towards the mall. I wasn't sure where we were headed; Mark liked to roam around town looking for his customers – he never stayed in one place for a very long time. "I'm doin' just fine."

A blatant lie.

But Mark didn't care – in fact he didn't even question it, and we continued along our path towards the downtown area, carefully avoiding gang active lots and neighbourhoods where we knew stabbings had taken place. It was sad, really, that we knew this area like the back of our hands. It was sad that we didn't have to think about it – didn't even have to talk about why we switched to the other side of the sidewalk when a certain group of people came walking down the street, or why we took a certain detour to avoid a house. We just knew. We were street smart, but it was sad because it meant we had a connection with a violent area.

We arrived at the mall safe and sound, thankfully, and Mark made a beeline for the familiar head shop in the back corner of the district. I decided to head down to the flower shop, because I had spotted some beautiful lilacs that I was interested in purchasing. God knew I needed a little bit of color in my life. Unfortunately, when I arrived at the tiny florist's, I dejectedly noted that the flowers were twenty dollars plus tax, which meant they were way out of my budget. It made sense; they were wrapped and everything, and even came with their own little box. I looked down at the measly little five dollars in my hand that I had taken from my mother's purse and swallowed heavily. I wanted to cry and stomp my foot like a child. Those lilacs were beautiful – I would have known exactly where to put them; Daniel had a lovely bare windowsill, and it would have been an excellent source of sunlight for the delightful flowers.

It was really a bummer that I wasn't going to be able to purchase them, but I refused to be beat. I was going to exit this store with something beautiful in tow – and it was going to be better than any other flower in the store. I wiped a tear that had begun to fall from my left eye and took a couple steps forward to the fake flowers that lay on the counter. They were just as wonderful as all of the other flowers in the store – it was clear that this florist had particular talent. After several minutes of internal debate I picked up a magnificent blue orchid. It was stunning with its slightly darker toned insides and exquisite light blue petals that seemed to glow.

I journeyed to the cash register to make my purchase, and happily handed over my five dollars. It took me a couple minutes to realize that this was the first time I was actually proud of myself for doing something. That emotion had been very unfamiliar to me for a long time. It wasn't until I said goodbye to Mark and began to walk home that I even debated the meaning behind this flower. I figured that I had bought it because unlike regular flowers, this one lasted forever. It was plastic, yes, but someone had put great effort into it, just like a flower put great effort in to grow. I wanted to preserve that longer than the flower's lifespan. Since I couldn't freeze flowers or stop them from dying, the next best option was to buy a flower that couldn't die. What was the harm? It wouldn't die, and it was just as lovely and ornate as any other orchid. I wanted to be like the flower I had bought. I wanted to last.

My artificial orchid was a symbol of hope.

* * *

When I arrived at the Desario household it was late in the afternoon, so I tiptoed past Mr. Desario's bedroom, aware that he usually took his naps around this time. I grabbed what seemed to be a never used vase from the bottom cabinet in the kitchen and filled it with water – knowing fully well that it was all for show – then placed the flower inside and took it to Daniel's room. I positioned it exactly where I envisioned the lilacs would go; right in the middle of the windowsill.

"Perfect." I muttered, stepping back to admire my work. It really was beautiful.

Again, the feeling of pride welled up in my chest and I placed my hands on my hips, a smile tugging at the corners of my mouth.

* * *

If there was one thing I hated, it was mornings. I detested getting up five out of the seven days a week and heading towards the hellhole that they called an 'educational facility'. But alas, this morning was different than all of the others. Today, there was something waiting for me. Just when the flower I had purchased yesterday had completely exited my mind, I turned my head towards the windowsill and my breath caught in my throat.

The blue plastic orchid was surrounded by wonderful pink petunias – real ones – that complimented my flower's blue and added an amazing splash of color to Daniel's drab room. Speaking of my friend, I rose just in time for him to walk into the room with an apple in hand. "Like 'em?"

I nodded, already started to feel a grin on my face. It wasn't usual to be happy at this estranged hour in the morning, but amidst the dreary circumstances, Daniel had managed to replace my frown with a smile.

"They're all gonna die," Daniel took three steps towards the window, pointing at the petunias. "But that one…" He turned his attention to my flower. "That one's still gonna be there when they're all dead. It's gonna live. It's gonna _survive_."

He took another loud bite out of his apple and I realized that the concept I had applied to my inorganic plant was the exact same deal. This was more than just flowers – this was Daniel and I realizing that we needed a find a way to make it in the real world. We were never going to get by like we did these final years of school. We would be considered adults and we would have to get jobs, which meant responsibilities and time and had a lot to do with money. Some of us would buy houses, which meant mortgage and debt, and some of us had the chance to start a family. It was a nerve-wracking thing to think about, but it was about time that we began to wrap our heads around the idea of 'growing up'.

If we stayed hard and rigid like the flower, unaffected by anything that got thrown at us, we could do it – we could mature.

* * *

Later in the day, I found myself in the familiar place at the back of the history classroom with my feet up on my desk, watching papers get handed back. Today was the unfortunate test return date, and I was expecting the worst. Ken and I had been completely stoned a couple weeks ago when we took the test, and Ken had been shooting spitballs at me all period long. Not that I cared, of course. My grades had gone to hell anyway. But just when I thought things couldn't get any worse in my academics, there was a glitch in the system.

"Ms. Welsh – congratulations." My history teacher placed the test paper face down and smiled at me – perhaps the first act of kindness he had ever performed in my presence. I wasn't particularly deserving of a long of people's gratitude.

My eyebrows shot up in confusion. "What?"

But the teacher was long gone; off to deliver the news of another student's pass or fail at the next desk. With shaking fingers, I slowly flipped the paper right-side-up and scanned the page. One I got to the top, my eyes bulged. I couldn't believe it. It wasn't a fluke – and I hadn't taken any drugs today. The paper that had been dropped on my desk clearly stated the mark: 'B'. I had never gotten a 'B' before – not on my art pieces, not in gym class, or math class, or any other class for that matter. Katherine Jane Welsh just did _not _receive good grades. But here, in my hands, was a test paper with a bright red 'B' on the front of it. I literally couldn't believe my own eyes. It was natural for me to jump out of my seat with tears in my eyes.

By the time I got out on the patio, I was jumping for joy. It was no wonder that Kim turned around immediately when she recognized my voice – I wasn't the type to yell or jump for anything anymore. The last time she had seen me get excited was when someone told me that they had replaced the beer inside a keg with whiskey.

"I GOT A 'B'!" I screamed, latching onto Kim and wrapping all of my limbs around her strong frame. I was so elated that I didn't even realize she could hold me up with no problem at all. It was no surprise – the last time I had weighed myself I was nearing 94 pounds. But even that thought didn't distract me. I was insanely joyous.

"Are you kidding me?!" Kim screeched, pulling me off of her to grab the sheet in my hands. The history quiz hadn't changed; the red letter was still the same, displaying itself proudly on my paper. "Oh Katherine, this is amazing!" She grinned and gave me a broad hug. Ken snatched the paper out of her hands and shook his head, chuckling. He had been absent in history, most likely because of the return of the test papers.

"Nice, Welsh." He gave me a slap on the back and passed the sheet to Nick and Lindsay, who looked it over quickly and congratulated me. Next was Daniel, who was smoking a cigarette near the trashcan. Kim called him over, making him throw out his stub and meander over to us.

"Look at this." Kim held out my test paper. Daniel took it in both hands, looking it up and down before his eyes caught the mark at the top and widened. At first I had suspicions that this would hit a raw nerve, but after a couple of seconds I knew that I had underestimated my friend once again. Daniel was ecstatic, a grin spreading over his features like wildfire. He picked me up by the waist and spun me in circles, now proudly displaying his famous smile from ear to ear.

"You're AVERAGE! KATHERINE JANE WELSH IS AVERAGE, EVERYONE!" He bellowed.

There was a collective cheer from the rest of the patio, who raised their perspective cigarettes or questionable bottles of 'pop' in the air. I raised both of my arms in recognition. This was a milestone for me. This was a memorable moment – something that I would never forget. This – this could be a passing grade. A bragging right. This was amazing. That was the only describing word.

Amazing.


	15. Chapter 14 - Dead Dogs and Gym Teachers

**'Dead Dogs and Gym Teachers'**

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**A/N: Alright, so I've got a 'Far Cry 3' reference in here for any gamers who take an interest in the series – hopefully you catch it! Enjoy! :)**

The two people that hadn't been excited about my barely passing 'B' grades were my 'parents'. My mother had been particularly adamant about how I was never going to go anywhere in life, and somewhere in his drunken torpor, Rick managed to decrease my self confidence to a new all-time-low. He had made several jabs about how I wasn't good enough anyway, and how the marking system had probably been a fluke. Several good points were made – I had to give credit where credit was due – in fact this particular mark was quite a jump from the consecutive 'C's I had received all year long. Nonetheless my ride on cloud nine had been briefly interrupted by the severe reality of that morning, and I realized that once again the outcomes I produced were never good enough.

"Come on, it's better than everything else I did this year!"

It was 9:30, and I was still caught in a heated argument with Rick about the importance of my 'B' grade. It was actually surprising – he was completely sober for the first time in weeks, and I had been reminded that he was as much of an asshole drunk as he was sober. My mother was still passed out after a late night with an expensive bottle of imported scotch, and either way she had been expelled from the equation of 'rational conversation' in this household anyway.

"No it's not," Rick whined, stabbing at his soggy eggs with a knife. It didn't disturb me in the slightest that he had decided to eat his meal completely forkless. "You're a fucking idiot, Kathy. 'B' means dumb – 'A' is smart. And you know what 'C' means? 'C' is the worst of the worst – you're gonna end up like your mother. So no matter what, you're still dumb."

At first I was fascinated because this was the longest string of words to ever come out of Rick's mouth without vomit trailing behind it, but I then came to my senses and fully acknowledged what he had just divulged.

"Shut the fuck up." I hissed, slapping my unfinished toast down and glaring at him.

At first Rick didn't respond, which surprised me even further.

"You hear me, ass butt?" I didn't even have time to backtrack on my strange insult.

"Yeah." Rick grunted, flipping through the newspaper whilst gobbling down the rest of his eggs. Those dishes would only join the ever-growing pile in the sink, which I occasionally tended to when I made the risky decision to stay the night in my house. Speaking of messes, my mother had made what she believed to be a 'responsible decision' and dedicated one room in the entire house to garbage. Everything that we didn't toss to the curb ended up in there – it was mainly memorabilia that she was too fond to part with along with some of Rick's 'valuables' tossed in here and there.

I called it the pit.

"You know kid," Rick stood up, and my fight or flight kicked in. My brain had adapted to moving my body when situations like this arose – it was accustomed to moving away from the threat zone and grabbing any object nearby. Unfortunately, the spatula that I had grown so fond of wasn't sitting in the same place I remembered it to be last night. It was in the sink, along with the rest of the soapy dishes. "I've never liked you. And I don't intend to start anytime soon."

His six-foot frame neared my 5'4 one, and I decided that it was pretty much time I stood my ground. I had never fought fair with Rick before – but it seemed like an appropriate time to start if I was intending on getting to school for lunch.

"C'mere, you li'l cunt." He finally swung, and instead of his fist hitting my face I managed to duck in time for it to go crashing into the cabinet. As soon as his skin made contact with the wood, I heard the sickening crunch of what would have been my jaw, but instead was cheap lumber used for our cupboards. But paying attention to this detail left me extremely vulnerable, and Rick took the opportunity to swing again. This time, there was no sickening crunch (thank the Lord), but there were black spots in my eyes and I reeled over the countertop, clutching my jaw. He swung again, connecting with my side of my torso.

Crying out in pain but refusing to admit defeat, I stumbled to my feet and tried my best to avoid his furious wrath. He swung twice more, both which I managed to avoid. It wasn't like Rick made it discreet when he was intent on abuse, which made avoiding his instances a lot easier. One of his punches flew into midair, and the other one stuck itself in the side of the fridge. He cried out in pain and held his hand, which I noted had begun to bleed quite heavily. I didn't care. I grabbed the teapot that was sitting on the opposite counter – it had no current or future use to us anyhow – and mustered whatever strength I had left to throw it at the imminent, lumbering oaf of a threat. The pot hit Rick's chest frame, covered in a leather jacket, and crackled into millions of tiny pieces. I had never thrown something that had broken so easily, and I wasn't sure if it was my 'brute strength' or Rick's chest. I was partially convinced it was the latter.

"Nice try, pumpkin. Come on, gimme what'cha got."

I gave him a sinister smile, picking up one of the dishes in the sink. This time, his own laziness was going to be his downfall. The bountiful amount of dishes in the sink could buy me a couple of minutes of Rick's unconsciousness to hitch a ride to school. "I said I'd fight back. I didn't say that I'd fight fair."

I whipped the plate at his face, and this time when it collided instead of breaking, it made a dull 'thunk' and dropped to the floor, where it proceeded to shatter. Rick didn't seem affected in the slightest, besides a small red spot that appeared on the corner of his forehead and the downwards bending of his frown. My face, on the other hand, was beginning to swell. I could feel the blood on my jack already from the impact of his hit with the rings, and my ribcage was screaming in pain.

For the final punch coming my way, Rick managed to strike me in the eye, and I was convinced that it was going to be lights out – it wasn't the first time that he had knocked me out cold and it wouldn't have been the last. Unfortunately, putting me out of my misery didn't seem to be on the menu this morning. Instead he pushed me back flat on my ass and backwards a few feet. I cried out in pain, holding my eye. He had at least been merciful enough to hit me with his ring-less hand.

I growled, grabbed another dish, and this time didn't wait for the reaction.

* * *

When I finally got to school, Kim occupied herself with the immediate task of covering me up before I was exposed to any 'concerned' teachers or students. Not that anyone cared anyhow, but both Kim and I ignored that fact and powdered my face up as much as possible.

"Oh Kathy. Why does he wear so many rings?" She grimaced and tried to pat around my puffed up face.

"I don't know." I whined, settling on telling people yet again that I had ran into another door.

"Well, that's the best I can do." Kim pushed me in front of the mirror, and I sighed as I took head of the injuries that were so obvious on my face.

"Thanks." I managed a small smile and accepted that this was the best I was going to get. Kim returned the gesture and excused herself to class.

I decided that French class wasn't worth my time, and decided to hang around the patio for the rest of first period. I had surprisingly made it before lunch, which was the original goal. I deserved a pat on the back for that one. When Rick decided he wanted a 'fair' fight, it usually took the whole morning. I'd be lucky to even get a hit in before second period, and it was a miracle every time I made it out the door by the time lunch started. I was never an early bird, so waking up before either of my parents wasn't technically an option. Everyday it made more and more sense why I spent more time at my friend's houses than mine, but even if those environments were somewhat safer than mine, I couldn't bring myself to constantly be asking to stay there. It was rude and a classic situation of exploitation. I felt horrible.

"Welsh!" Nick's voice rang out from the corner of the patio, and I lit up a cigarette whilst meandering over towards his general direction. "How's the little fireball – oh shit!" Nick stopped mid-sentence upon glancing at my face , and a couple of the other kids in the bleachers turned at his exclamation. I slapped him hard on the chest.

"Shut up." I hissed, taking a very long drag of my cigarette and exhaling it away from him.

"That's – that's not…that's not normal – was he wearing a ring again?!" Nick cupped my face as gently as possible. "Katherine, you've gotta see a doctor!"

"Christ on a cracker, Nicholas! Shut your trap before I shut it for you!" I snapped, hitting him again twice for good measure and pulling my face away from his hand. "And for your information, I walked into a goddamned door."

Nick regarded me wearily, before sitting down and sighing. I joined him with a suppressed breath of my own, glaring at the other kids on the patio. They turned away, fully aware of my situation. After all, it wasn't too hard for these types of kids to figure it out. Nick grabbed a newspaper that was sitting on the edge of the picnic table and began to read an article out loud. Reading was something that he had picked up on recently, but it mostly came in the form of strange movie reviews that he narrated with awful accents or serious articles about 'potentially earth shattering' political movements. It got boring pretty fast, but – and I cringed at the irony of the fact – I was used to the same things happening over and over again while I waited for them to make a difference. I considered that to be the definition of insanity; repeating the same things over and over again expecting shit to change. It was a dangerous cycle that I myself and countless other mindless zombies had trapped themselves into. Before I knew it, Nick had read half the newspaper, I had smoked three cigarettes, and the lunch bell was ringing. With another heavy sigh, I lifted myself to my feet and cringed in agony. Nick, with his large frame and heavy hands, came to my rescue and helped me to my feet. With a couple more comments about my weight and invisible bruises, he and I made our way to the lunchroom.

"Guys!" I recognized Daniel's voice, and Nick led me towards the table. I thought I had been doing fairly well for a person who didn't have 20/20 vision in their left eye.

"So what's the deal with you and this guitar?" Daniel began to speak, seemingly intent on having a good conversation while Nick opened his guitar case he had been lugging around. I found it strange that he had been carrying the thing places considering he had never played a chord in his life, but I decided to let him lead his own life and refocused my attention on the task at hand; avoiding any sort of sympathy whatsoever. Daniel hadn't laid eyes on my face yet, but by the way Ken was looking at me, things were going to get ugly fairly quickly.

"So Katherine, you mind telling us what happened to your face?"

I glared at Ken with the coolest look I could muster, making a mental note to get him back as soon as possible. It wasn't like I had a chance of avoiding Daniel's gaze for the entire lunch period – but I had at least hoped that he didn't notice until we were in a less crowded area. Daniel wasn't a stranger to making scenes, and recently he had been extremely adamant about Rick's abuse towards me. His anger was for a righteous cause, but it wasn't his place to arrest or report Rick. That job was going to me mine when the time came. Three sets of eyes flickered towards Daniel to gauge his reaction.

"Katherine." He cleared his throat once, speaking very calmly. "What the hell is on your fucking face?"

I covered my eyes and drooped my head down on the table. There were two ways that Daniel led an argument; calm and collected (which I found incredibly annoying because 98% of the time he was correct about what he said) or angry and annoying (I preferred him angry because he was easy to calm and most of the time wrong about what he was saying).

"I ran into a door again, and -"

"That's bullshit!" Daniel hissed, staring me down for five seconds and then getting up to leave the table. We watched him go collect two tray tables stacked with food. Today was chicken fingers and fries with extra ketchup – something that I detested but the rest of the school praised.

Daniel came back and slammed the tray down on our table, pushing one towards Nick and I. "If you don't eat," He began. "I'm going straight to Rosso's office."

I glared up at him with pleading eyes, but he wasn't relenting. I sighed and ran a hand through my hair, shaking it out when I realized that I had pulled a huge clump of it out. Daniel sighed and rubbed at his eyes.

"Your hair's fallin' out, Welsh." Ken commented.

"I know!" I snapped, grabbing a fry and stuffing it in my face. I was hoping that they would carry one normal conversation and wouldn't notice my crafty tactic, but they had grown clever. That was how I knew that they cared about me. They wouldn't let me die. They were family.

"You have to eat more than one, Kathy." Daniel smirked with a snarky tone. I made a face and uncrossed my arms to grab a handful to shove in my mouth again. "There ya go."

Finally, they turned their attention to the upcoming 'The Who' concert. Nick mentioned some song about Lindsay, and Daniel brought up his cousin Floyd's bus that he had won at a city auction. He was planning on taking us all on it, along with a barbeque. Nick then began an awful rendition of 'Halleluiah', which ended in Daniel singing with a corndog and

"Hey, Coco!" Mr. Kowcheski broke up our musical number. "This isn't the cafeteria from fame. Uncle! Uncle!" He teased, gripping his coffee mug in his hand as he strode away.

"Who the hell's Coco?" Nick spread his arms, unfazed in the slightest.

"She's that hot chick who took her shirt off in the movie." Daniel informed him.

"Oh yeah, that was sweet man!" Ken agreed, leaning forward on his elbows. I rolled my eyes and surprised myself by grabbing another fry. Out of the corner of my eye I witnessed Ken smile at my slight increase in appetite.

* * *

I found myself in a similar position the next day; explaining to Lindsay why half of my face was bruised while my other friends encouraged me to shove the food down my throat. Today I wasn't having any of it.

"- and he was wearing rings, so -" I tried to finish explaining my story to Lindsay while Ken pushed overcooked lasagna on my cheek. "God Ken – you suck!" I slapped a huge portion of the lasagna on his head, making him recoil and keen in laughter while Daniel helped clean him up. I finished explaining my sob story to Lindsay and everything was quiet for a couple of minutes before Kim spoke. There had been something off about her today.

"Guys," She finally began. "I killed Milly's dog."

Daniel stared at her strangely in between chews, as if even he couldn't believe that his girlfriend had murdered an innocent creature.

"Like…like with your bare hands?" Ken lifted his paws up as if to imitate the crime scene.

"No." Kim looked down, suddenly sullen. "I ran it over."

"Oh." Daniel nodded. "You're pretty sick."

"I didn't do it on purpose, doofus." Kim really looked guilty about it. I felt sorry for her – although I had strange fantasies about killing Rick in his sleep sometimes, I never wanted to blood of a murdered animal on my hands. That was something that I could never forgive myself for.

"Yeah, it was an accident." Lindsay agreed.

"Well I always say: 'Girl plus car equals dead animal."

"True." Daniel agreed, waving a chocolate bar in the air.

"_That_," I pointed my finger at Ken. "Is sexist. Don't be an ass butt."

"Ass but?" Ken quoted, a grin forming on his face as well as mine.

"Yeah, you heard me. Ass butt." I leaned forward in my chair.

"Did you just call me an -"

"We have to tell Milly." Lindsay interrupted our tiny quarrel by confronting Kim.

"Why?" Our blonde friend questioned. "It's not gonna bring her dog back, Lindsay. It'll just upset her more."

"It – it's not like you killed a human being. It's just a dog." Ken deadpanned.

Kim retaliated with a blank stare. "That's even worse, Ken. I love dogs."

She sort of had a point there. Human beings were animals too, although dogs and cats and other organisms didn't exactly overpopulate and control the planet like we did.

"Why? Dogs suck. They're stupid, and they smell – and they're ugly – y'know they don't even like us people. They pretend to, but they're just kissin' our asses so we'll feed 'em. I ain't buyin' into that hoodwink."

"Oh man, Lindsay, look." We had all ignored Ken hypothetical theory to stare at Milly, who was sitting alone at the lunch table and barely touching her food.

"Oh god, poor Milly. She's just…sitting there – by herself."

The sad image of Milly sitting alone at the cafeteria picking at her meal was the icing on top of the cake, and I had a feeling that Kim wouldn't last holding this secret for very long.

* * *

"Yeah, I've got a trig test tomorrow I need to study for." Lindsay groaned, dumping more things into her locker.

"Oh," I stared down at my feet, the feeling of shame and stupidity creeping up inside of me again. The bruising, reminders of my inability to make anybody proud, had grown even more apparent on my face. Kim and I had taken extra measures this morning from our concealer reserves, but there was no hiding the true ugliness of my wounds. "Yeah – trig test."

"Hey Lindsay! Your old man make his mind up yet about the concert?" Kim was fast approaching with Milly in tow. She had been pretty adamant about introducing Milly into our social circle since the guilt of running over her dog had taken over. Unfortunately, Milly still had no clue. It wasn't my place to let her know, so I shut my mouth as per usual. But it was painful to see the girls who had caused to much pain to Milly try and befriend her in such an obvious way for reasons no one but them could see. Sometimes I hated knowledge.

"Nah, but count me in – he's just makin' me sweat it." Lindsay laughed, pulling another book out of her locker.

"Hey, after school Kim and I are going to the record store – you guys wanna come?"

Lindsay did a double take, but I couldn't find it in myself to be surprised, and shook my head. "I don't own a turntable."

"Uh – what?" Lindsay apparently needed clarification.

"I'm gonna buy some 'Who' albums so I can sing along to the concert!" Milly smiled, and I was glad to see that the girl was excited about something other than math for once in her life.

"You're going to the 'Who' concert? Milly, what about your parents?!" Lindsay most definitely sounded shocked.

"Y'know, ever since my dog died they've been letting me to anything."

I didn't really understand what was so strange about it – it was obvious that Milly was grieving from the loss of her dog, and was using it as an excuse to go off the rails and follow in Lindsay's footsteps. It mirrored the situation with Lindsay's grandmother, besides the fact that Lindsay and Milly were very different personalities. Milly seemed like a very easily persuaded person, and these types of 'do-gooders' and extremely religious types generally didn't like run-ins with the law or freaks like us. Then again, it was only a matter of how far a person could be pushed. Everyone had a breaking point – that was a scientific fact that I had learned a very long time ago.

"Well, I'm gonna go home and study for my trig test. Right, Milly? Don't you…think you should study?"

At the second mention of the test I felt my stomach lurch, and I covered my mouth with wide eyes as the gags started up. Milly looked past Lindsay to me with worried eyes. Lindsay turned around at her reaction just in time to see me hurl into the trashcan.

"Oh, Katherine." Was it just me, or did every time someone said my name it sounded like the most pitiful, sympathetic thing to come out of their mouths? I hated feeling like the charity case, or the girl that everyone felt 'sorry' for. Sure, sympathy was great, but there was no benefit. When people looked at you sorrowfully in the halls because of the bruises but didn't say anything, it had no affect on your life whatsoever. This was the ugly side to sympathy – all emotion and no action. I hated it.

Lindsay tugged my hair back as I vomited once more, and I was thankful as my stomach settled again. I proceeded to the drinking fountain as my friends resumed normal conversation. It was sad, really – how my anxious vomiting was a completely normal thing. I swore only the middle school kids stopped to watch me throw up half the time. Even the teachers had stopped caring. To them, it was another nurse's slip they knew wouldn't get returned. As long as they got my sick ass out of the classroom on time, I meant no more than dog shit to them.

"Oh yeah," Milly cast me another worried glance before replying to Lindsay's previous question about the test. "That's right…I forgot about that."

"Well, y'know what," Kim intercepted. "Blow it off! You're in mourning; you can't be excepted to do homework."

And, just as I predicted, Milly agreed and her opinion was easily shifted. Just like the freakin' wind. "Good point," Milly noted, turning back to Lindsay. "I guess I'm gonna blow it off. Oh my god – I'm so bad!"

"Alright," Kim laughed, backing up to head to class and pulling me along. "I'll meet you out front right after school, and we'll go to the mall. And you're gonna wear your big coat, right? The one with the pockets?"

Milly nodded, and Kim dragged me away to class, our arms wrapped around each other shoulder's. "Okay, see ya Linds!"

Later the same day, Kim and I found ourselves in the alcove behind the stairs in between classes, frantically copying off of Ken's notes.

"I can't fucking read this," I droned. "Ken's writing is nuts."

Before Kim could respond, Lindsay showed up. "Kim! Katherine!"

"Oh, hey Lindsay! Do us a favor – give this to Ken." She handed off the sheet of notes that I had finished copying at the last second.

"You're copying _Ken's_ homework?" Lindsay seemed extremely disappointed.

"_Attempting _to." Kim corrected.

"He writes like a mental patient!" I whined, shutting my finished copy in my bag and burying my hands in my jacket pockets. I was craving my nicotine and had misplaced my carton of smokes this morning. While I was searching for my cigarettes, Lindsay once again brought up the subject of releasing the truth to Milly about her dog. Kim, of course, retaliated. But Lindsay, being herself – a sometimes honest and sometimes scheming person – pushed. Kim questioned, and Lindsay justified. Kim degraded, and Lindsay praised.

"She's gonna wind up getting into trouble." My rational friend persisted.

"Why, 'cause she's hanging out with us?" I could sense that this conversation was going to turn brutal very quickly, so I made sure not to get involved and put myself to work by searching my bag inside out for my smokes.

"Well, what's the difference?" Lindsay half snorted. "You're only hanging out with her because you feel guilty."

"No I'm not!" Kim grew defensive. Once again, it was your classic seesaw. "She's kinda funny!"

"Yeah, but – you don't know Milly!" Lindsay switched tactics, choosing social norms. "She's really smart, and she loves church – and she loves her family a lot -"

"And what?" Kim stood up, growing frustrated. "We're scum?"

"Yes." I replied, voice monotone without making eye contact. I didn't know about them, but I for one, considered myself the lowest of the low, and I didn't care who knew.

Lindsay began to backpedal, watching Kim's anger growing. "No – that's not what I'm saying -"

"Well, what _are _you saying, Lindsay?" That was a good question.

"I just don't think we should interfere with her life!" Lindsay blurted.

"Y'know, what are you so worried about anyways y'know that Milly's gonna start hanging out with us and you're not gonna have anyone to run to when you get scared of your 'bad friends'?"

I stopped searching my bag and frowned. Fear was not something that I was used to striking in people. Sympathy, anger and frustration, sure – but not fear. Fear, faith, peace and love were never my strong qualities. The inner turmoil that I had stored in me could fuel a freaking rocket if I had the chance.

"Kim -" By now, Lindsay had realized that she had made a mistake – and when Kim was at this point of frustration only Daniel could backpedal that far.

"And you know what?" Kim advanced on her, and I sensed a threat coming from her end of the scale. "If you do tell her, I'll kick your ass."

My fingernails finally managed to swipe the edge of the cigarette carton I had been looking for, and I pulled it out with a triumphant grin, watching Kim stalk off. I turned to Lindsay and patted her shoulder, trying to reassure her with the fact that Kim almost never followed through with any of her threats. This, of course, was entirely false information. Lies. But wasn't that what Kim and Lindsay had been doing this entire week? Lying? I was only learning from the best.

* * *

**(katherine_welsh_14/set?id=126119527)**

"Hurry up, Welsh! I gotta shower too!" Daniel banged on the door of the bathroom as I made sure to shampoo every inch of my wet locks. My hair was never my main pride – in fact every since I had shaved part of the left side I had been afraid to show it around. But since the reception with my friends had been so lovely, I had been flipping it over to the right more often. It was nice to have positive feedback over so much negativity sometimes. The little things could really end up boosting your morale.

I turned off the tap and exited the tiny bathroom, towel wrapped firmly around my frame. I entered Daniel's room where he was gathering an army bag filled with food and 'provisions' for the concert. The barbeque was loaded onto the bus already, which was conveniently parked right outside the Desario household. Daniel's mother had been complaining about it all day.

"Welsh, you're so skinny you could dodge rain drops – I swear." Daniel pocked one of my prominent collarbones, and I edged backwards with a funny face. This weekend was supposed to be about The Who, not my weight. So while Daniel took a shower, I blasted 'Pinball Wizard' and 'Bargain', hoping that Daniel's brain would be inspired to forget about my malnourishment. It worked. When he got out of the shower he was whistling out happy tunes while I tended to my flowers on his windowsill.

Kim showed up a little while later, finding me sitting on the floor still wearing nothing but a towel, listening to records and slightly out of it. She coaxed me into my jeans and t-shirt, pulling my feet into their socks and tying up my Chuck Taylor's for me. She brushed my hair through it's tangles and combed it to one side, then grabbed a pair of Daniel's sunglasses from his dresser, handing them to me along with my cigarettes.

"Let's go, come on." She gave me a reassuring smile and offered me her hand. I cast her a worried glance.

"There'll be lot'sa people…" I mumbled.

"Yeah, but we'll all be there. If you get really nervous you can just go back in the bus, all right? Besides, we're there for the music!" She squatted down to my level. "I'll even sit on the bus with you."

"Yeah?" I smiled.

Kim nodded again. "We'll find you some dope, too. Mark's coming along – you've gotta loosen up. Come on."

She finally managed to pull me to my feet, where my low blood pressure came into play and I swayed a bit. I heard the honking out front, meaning Daniel was ready to go. I smiled and linked my arm with Kim's, a smile already taking over my face.

Daniel had done an interesting job with the bus – it wasn't your typical school bus; yellow and decorated and shit – it was blue and had 'The Who' tapestry scribbled all over it. The inside was fairly clean, and several bags/articles of clothing were lying around to give it a homey sort of feeling. Kim decided to change her shirt once we were situated in the meeting area, so I waited with her on the bus while Nick, Ken and Daniel unloaded the grill and began to barbeque. We had decided to meet the rest of our crew at a park in a generally tolerant neighbourhood, and drive up to the concert around 7:00. It was 5:30 at the moment, and I could already smell the hotdogs.

"Hey!" Kim greeted our newly arrived friend as we exited the bus. I waved and smiled; sunglasses perched high on my head.

"How do you like the bus?" Daniel pointed to the big blue vehicle, a bottle of beer in one hand and grill tongs in the other.

"Wow!" Lindsay exclaimed, jumping back a bit from the charcoal grill's fire. "It's amazing!"

I grinned and grabbed a beer, stepping back to view our little entourage. Counting all of the freaks including myself, there was Nick, Daniel, Ken, Kim, Lindsay, Mark, the new so-called addition Milly (for god knew how long), Stoker, Jack, Samantha, Alan and Sally. It was a good bunch of kids, but we were expecting a couple more around 6:30-ish.

"Hey Kathy!" Daniel grabbed my attention just as I was lighting a cigarette. I was looking forward to winding down a little bit – hopefully sitting back and sharing interesting conversation whilst I downed a cool beer and finished my cigarette, but Daniel wanted to teach me how to barbeque. "C'mere – you gotta learn how to make food."

"You think I'm gonna eat that crap?" I made a face, but came closer to the charcoal grill.

"Come on – I'm gonna teach you how to cook." Daniel snapped his tongue and explained to me how to keep the grill clean while I finished my cigarette. He didn't want me potentially exploding anything.

"Alright, so the first thing to remember is how to turn the dang thing off and on. You put fire and coals in there to get it hot, and then you've got the grill. It cooks fast and you wanna let the meat sit for five minutes after you pull it out." He handed me the tongs, and I made another uncertain face. "Come on, turn the dogs over."

I flipped the sausages gingerly, pleased to find that I hadn't burned them.

"And when you put it out, you can use sand or water, or just close the lid. No oxygen; no flame. And be careful not to burn anything – dang it." He chastised.

"Lighten up. I'm no chef." I grumbled, taking a giant swig of my beer while I flipped over another hot dog. Daniel snorted and ruffled my hair, heading off to find Kim.

"Ken - is this one ready?" I called for aid. I didn't trust myself alone with fire.

He came over to examine the status of the finished hot dogs. "Yeah, those ones are okay." He pointed to the two at the very left end of the grill. I nodded and pulled them out, handing Ken one of the already plated hot dogs that had been sitting for a while.

"Look at you, cookin' hot dogs 'n' shit." Ken patted me on the top of the head.

"Yeah, Maybe you'll actually eat 'em for a change." Nick laughed from several feet away, still strumming awful chords on the guitar and blocking the soothing sound of The Who playing in the background.

"Nick – you're never gonna be the next Jimmy Page. Give it up and let me listen to 'Bobba O'Reilly' in peace." I lowered my sunglasses and pointed my tongs towards my instrument-welding friend. He gave me a certain rude gesture involving his middle finger before putting his guitar aside – with the promise of quieting down – and grabbing a hot dog.

Suddenly, there was a shout of 'Milly!', and we all looked towards a clean cut car that had stopped with a woman outside of it. She seemed rather conservative, and it was only when Milly rushed towards the woman that I connected the dots. This woman was her mother – and she didn't look happy at all. I flipped more hot dogs while they shared seemingly tense words, and within a little while we heard Milly exclaim for her mother to 'leave her alone'. Apparently, this prompted Mark to shout exclamations of approval towards our newest recruit.

"What a mouth on that chick!" He grinned, taking another swig of his beer. "That's it – you tell mamma! Tell her how it is!"

"Mark – if you don't shut up I'm going to throw your hot dog at you!" I found his opinions on Milly annoying, and quite frankly any comment that he made of late seemed sexist, derogatory, or flat out insulting. Perhaps he had been growing a different kind of marijuana – but whatever strands they were – they were making him more obnoxious than usual.

"Oh come on!" He leaned back to stick his tongue out at me from his spot on the hood of the bus, and I clamped my tongs at him. "I'm great! I'm _so _lovely!"

"No – you're awful! And the customer is always right! You wanna lose my business?!" I scolded, sticking my tongue right back out at him. "I recently came into some money and I intend on spending it."

"Yeah?" Mark hopped down from his spot and came over to the grill, pulling out a couple of grams. "How much you want?"

I didn't want to splurge all at once, so I bought a safe 5 grams and pocketed it, reminding myself to roll them before 7:00. By now it was around 6:15, and several more freaks had shown up to add to our pack. I was greeted by Leslie, a fellow French classmate who skipped just as often as I did, and I found myself manning the grill until Daniel got concerned that I wasn't cooking them well enough.

"Oh come on – five more minutes! Can't I at least pretend that I know what I'm doing?!" I whined, grasping for the tongs that he held out of my reach.

"Nope," Daniel swatted me away. "Not when you're servin' raw meat."

"It wasn't _that _bad," I sniffed. "It was just slightly undercooked."

Daniel laughed, patting me once on the cheek that wasn't bruised. "Go get a beer, Kath."

I scrunched up my nose and finished my first beer, picking up a second from the cooler inside the bus and then heading towards Nick and Lindsay. I sat on the curb, lighting a cigarette and challenging myself to downing as much of my beer as possible in five minutes. I managed to finish a good ¾ - an impressive feat even for my records. I burped loudly, watching Ken smash a guitar just as Nick was about to sing his prepared love song to Lindsay. Thank goodness that effort had been halted. Nick wasn't going to go anywhere with that guitar. While Nick was busy nagging Ken about how he owed him a new guitar, Milly came to sit beside Lindsay, commenting on how sick she felt by standing up to her mother. I leaned over towards her, feeling the rush of alcohol in my bloodstream.

"Y'know," I burped again. "I punched Rick back – and it was fantastic."

MIlly didn't seem to take inspiration; in fact she just seemed a little bit confused. Lindsay clarified for her, and Milly made the connection between the bruises on my face and the violence I mentioned. "Good for you!" She smiled.

"Who wants a beer?" Daniel and Kim joined us, offering more cold alcoholic beverages. "Anybody?"

"I'll have one of those." Milly piped up.

"Alright," Daniel handed it over. "Snag it. Here ya go. Opener."

"Milly – you don't drink." Lindsay seemed to be increasingly worried about her friend as she watched her slip into the freak zone. Perhaps she was worried or scared or even jealous of the girl.

"Well," The ex-church goer sighed. "Now's a good time to start. Bottoms up!"

"I killed your dog!" Kim exclaimed from her kneeled spot in between Lindsay and I, and Milly froze, putting down her beer bottle just as she was about to take her first sip.

"What?" She hadn't seemed to register what my friend had said.

I decided to remove myself from the situation as soon as possible, picking myself up and chugging the rest of my beer, heading towards Daniel to grab my third. He caught me trying to smuggle it from under my shirt and reprimanded me about my tolerance and how 'two was enough'. He didn't notice the beer tucked into my jeans, which I managed to down just as he grabbed for it ten minutes later.

When 7:00 rolled around, several of us were drunk, and others were stoned out of their minds. Most of us, however, were waiting until we arrived at the venue to do our desired smoking. So when we got there, we were most pleased to find several others doing the same. We had parked on a hill with a fairly good view of the stage, and the masses of people below. There were outhouses that construction workers had set up, and several other buses and vehicles were set up beside us with friendly faces. It was nice – the smoke was thick, the music was good, and the people were nice. I was calm. Music had always been an important factor in my life, even if I didn't have records or a turntable – I was always using my friends' or listening to the radio or watching TV when I had the chance. My friend's were excellent at sneaking into concerts, and I enjoyed the social aspects (provided that my anxiety didn't creep up on me) of how music connected people.

So in the midst of the concert buzz, I discovered that leaning back in between Kim and Stoker, sharing a spliff and downing the last of our beers, enjoying the sweet sounds of The Who's most desired songs really was my nirvana. This was my idea of fun and relaxation. This was heaven. There was nothing else to worry about at the moment; I didn't care about graduating school when I was watching The Who live in concert. I didn't care about where my mother was when I was spending quality time with the people who actually cared about me. This was what mattered – feeding my soul and strengthening my confidence. Giving myself space and time to grow. Maturing.

"Y'know, Keith Moon used to play the bugle. And he left high school when he was 15." Stoker wrapped an arm around my and blew a smoke ring into the air, passing the joint along to me. "Look where he is now."

"Man, I was thinking of dropping out." I grimaced, taking a very long drag of the relaxing drug. Each of us (mainly Mark) had created a pot pool and donated around a gram each to share, so there was plenty to go around. "I think I'll finish. I'm almost done anyway."

"Good girl." Stoker grinned. I took another hit and passed it along to Kim, who was snuggled into Daniel's side.

"What about you? You gonna drop out?" I turned to Stoker.

"Eh," Stoker made an uncertain face. "Winston Churchill said that 'we shall neither fall nor falter; we shall not weaken or tire…give us the tools and we will finish the job."

I nodded in agreement, too out of it to comprehend what he was saying and blown away that he could remember so many words all at one time it that particular order.

"Good plan. Smart guy." I giggled.

"Yeah, I'm in it for the long haul. I don't start what I can't finish." Stoker pulling his sunglasses down on his face as the sun's setting rays beamed on our hillside. It would have even been slightly romantic if not for the masses of intoxicated teenagers and freaks in the vicinity. I was about to comment on how deep and philosophical Stoker was getting, but Daniel managed to nab my attention.

"Welsh, can you answer me?"

"Wha-?" I hadn't even realized that he had asked a question.

"Jesus, how many beers did you have?" Daniel shook his head, but I could tell that he wasn't actually angry. Daniel did that sometimes. Pretended that he was one thing when he was actually the other. Actually, come to think of it, a lot of people did that. Pretended.

"I asked why Rick did that to your face." He pointed to my visage.

"Oh," I frowned, looking at the ground. "He…uh – he didn't think my 'B' was good enough."

I thanked the Lord that I was still wearing sunglasses, because I had been really proud of that 'B'. And to have Rick tear something down that actually was worth something hurt me a lot.

"Oh – are you serious?" Kim pulled me into a hug, tearing me away from Stoker who had attached himself to Samantha's lips anyhow.

"Yeah." I sighed, lighting a cigarette and willing myself to tough this one out. I was _not _going to cry of Rick being disappointed in anything I did. Daniel still hadn't said anything. "It's just…" I bit my lip, willing myself not to cry but nonetheless feeling tears pool in my eyes. "I try really hard, y'know? Like I wanna make someone proud – I just…" I sniffled once. "I don't know what else to do."

"Katherine – listen to me." Kim gripped me by the shoulders, and I focused in on her. "You made us proud. You made yourself proud. You don't need any fucker's approval for anything, okay? You got that freaking 'B'. That's _yours. _No one can take that, or your pride, away from you."

I nodded, taking another drag of my cigarette.

She was right.

There was a certain phrase that I had heard in History class – in fact I was fairly sure that this had been my final scoring mark – the essay on Eleanor Roosevelt. She had been a strong woman; a wonderful role model and a fantastic advocate for women's rights. I only remembered writing so much of the essay – in my defense, I was stoned and Ken was being an ass – but I did remember one quote that I had included as my final closing statement.

_"Remember, no one can make you feel inferior without your consent."_


	16. Chapter 15 - Noshing and Moshing

**'Noshing and Moshing'**

** (/cgi/set?id=126183845)**

"Hey, is that Jenna Zank?" Nick handed Ken his pop bottle that he had retrieved from the other side of the store whilst we turned our heads to the scary-looking cashier. We had stopped by the corner store after school to purchase our respective fizzy drinks, but the recent discovery of a fellow delinquent outcast was rapidly recieveing attention.

"Oh yeah," We regarded her wearily. "Didn't she drop out?"

Ken scoffed with a small shake of his head. "Why would you drop out and stay in Chippewa? Crazy."

"She used to be so hot."

"She still is." Daniel raised a brow.

I made a face. Sure, Daniel's relationship with Kim was always on the rocks and he was known for scooping up girls' attention. But Jenna wasn't his type of girl. I remembered Jenna from the graffiti artwork that we used to team up to do. She would cover one side of the mailbox with offensive material whilst I decorated the other. She would keep watch while I vandalized the side of some jock's car. I would cover her while she defaced our crappy public school. Daniel didn't do those things. He had a lot of built up hate, but he never went to such lengths as to vandalize public property. It was surprising that he found a punk rocker to be so attractive. Sure, I was all for body modifications – hell, I'd even pierced my left nipple at one point – but Jenna's hair was looking like it defied gravity, sticking up like that. I had to hand it to her; it took confidence to pull something like that off, and she was rocking it.

"Yeah, if you like clowns."

"Hey," I intercepted him before his comments became any more negative. If there was one thing I hated, it was someone who didn't give you freedom to be yourself. "Let her express herself."

"Sure, sure." Ken concided as we moved towards the checkout. "But why does she have to do it like _that_?"

"Shut up." Nick rolled his eyes as our former classmate checked our items out. If she recognized us, she didn't say anything. When I placed my water on the counter and slapped two dollars down, she shot me a grin and asked me how I was doing, to which I replied that I was soggier than dog shit and didn't expect her to be doing any better in this dump with no education. We agreed to keep in touch as much as possible. Nick, Daniel, Ken and I exited the store and headed across the street to the park to shoot some hoops, but the rain quickly foiled our plans.

"Aw crap." Ken whined as we ran for cover under a tree. It was then that I noticed a large dark lump prominent underneath the tree we were heading towards. Upon further examination, my suspicions – and anxiety – arose.

"What's that?" Nick pointed towards my point of interest, and as soon as I realized that it was a big black dog, I grew even more worried. There weren't many cases of strays around here, and people were known to be extremely cruel to animals. So when an innocent creature like this beautiful full-grown Northern breed was found lying around, it wasn't just by coincidence. Something was wrong.

"Wait, stop." I instructed my friends. From the knowledge I had gained with Kim's dog, Bobo, I was well aware of the risks of the endless list of possible bigger dog's medical conditions. Although Bobo had been small, the veterinarian had always warned Kim that there was a possibility of his stomach flipping. There wasn't really any medical material on how it happened, but it was more prominent in bigger male dogs. If it wasn't treated in hours, it could kill the poor animal. "Oh god - I think he's got gastric dilatation."

"What?" Ken scrunched his face up towards me. I edged closer to the dog, looking for a collar. There was nothing.

"His stomach's flipped." My voice was growing hectic. It was a male – and he was huge. "Jesus - we gotta get him to a vet or he could die."

"Katherine, I-I can't – wait, what?" Daniel began to protest, but when his brain locked on to the possibility that the life of this suffering creature was in his hands, he and Nick carefully picked the dog up and loaded him into the car. None of us seemed to care that it was raining anymore.

Daniel revved the engine, and sped off towards the nearest veterinarian in town. The dog whimpered from the back seat occasionally, and I wanted so badly to ride in the trunk with him. I hated watching things suffer.

"Who the fuck would leave this poor thing out alone?" I hissed, cushioning the animal's head with one of Daniel's old shirts. "How could anyone do this?"

The dog dry heaved once from his heavily salivated mouth, frightening Nick in the front seat, and I found myself comparing it to when I was feeling sick some days.

"He didn't throw up, did he?" Daniel looked at me in the review mirror.

"No – it's just a symptom. Drive faster." I snapped, stressed about the poor thing in my hands.

"Katherine if we get in an accident you're flying out the back of this thing." Daniel snapped back, always concerned about the little things.

"Just drive!" I screeched, cursing the stoplight and feeling tears well in my eyes. I didn't want this dog passing out before we go to the hospital. The boys shut up, and Ken even helped me keep the canine awake while Daniel pulled in front of the veterinarian, heading inside. A few seconds later, he exited the shop with two employees in tow, both of which were balancing a stretcher between them and looked mildly concerned but used to the situation.

"We've got 'im." The taller man opened the back of the car and they worked together to lift the Newfoundlander onto the gurney. "We're takin' 'im straight to the operatin' room, alright? You're dogs gonna be jus' fine."

I hadn't realized I was crying, and didn't bother to correct the Southerner. The veterinary EMT had been blatantly lying; big dogs rarely withstood these kinds of operations, and I had no way of knowing if this poor animal had been through this horror before. I had no idea how I had remembered everything that Kim's veterinarian had told me, but I knew that animals were important to me, so I figured I would try to take care of them as best as possible. I knew that to avoid the flipping of the stomach you were supposed to avoid processed foods, kibble and keep exercise levels high as well as watch the nutrients that you were feeding your dog. Clearly, this animal's previous owner hadn't been up to date.

Nick, Ken, Daniel and I sat in the waiting room at the clinic, sullenly reading boring pamphlets and sighing at different octaves. After what seemed like eternity, Ken announced that he was heading home. He patted me once on the shoulder, shared a fist bump and a hollow goodbye, and was gone. Nick bid us farewell ten minutes later, claiming he had to go pick up from Mark. Daniel stayed with me. It was nice that he was showing adamant support for something that mattered to me.

"Ma'am?" The receptionist called to me, the only woman in the waiting area. There was another man waiting with a large cat in his cage, and a kid with a very noisy bird. "You can go see your dog now."

My eyes lit up, and I hurriedly gripped the edges of my seat to lift myself out of the uncomfortable plastic chair and into the closed off section of the clinic. I peeked around in every room until I found the familiar black mass, panting happily away on the operating table. As caring as I had been about this dog, it was unfortunate that I was probably going to have to let him go. I didn't own him, and as unfair as it was he would probably be returned to his neglectful owner.

"Alright, so I'm correct in assuming he had something heavy to eat before his stomach flipped?" The vet came in, flipping papers on her clipboard.

"I…uh -" I bit my lip and decided to tell her the truth. "I don't really know. He's not my dog."

Her green eyes flashed to mine, alarmed. "Well, who's is he?"

Both Daniel and I shrugged, explaining how we had found the animal abandoned underneath a tree stump. This prompted the vet to groan and retreat back into her office, calling for yet another medical team to put the dog under a scanner to find the embedded microchip inside of him. Most owners went through the process of installing a tiny biodegradable tracking device that linked the animal to the contact information in case the creature was lost, but mostly the devices were used to notify families that cars had unfortunately hit their cats and/or dogs. Unfortunately, in our case, the owner hadn't even gone to the trouble of inserting the 'safety' device. The dog was clear as a bone; no collar, no chip, no nothing.

"The next step would be to put him up for adoption…but those animals rarely get taken." The veterinarian explained while the dog was further examined. The Newfoundlander seemed extremely curious about everything that the EMT was analyzing him with, and he barked happily when he received a treat for good behavior. I found myself growing fonder and fonder of the animal. "They usually end up in pounds or neglected kennels."

"I'll take him." I spoke out of impulse, and even Daniel whipped his head around to stare at me strangely. A dog was a responsibility – something to take care of and nurture into old age. My life wasn't used to seeing a lot of pets, and I was in no mental state to 'take care' of anything, per se, but I wanted to take care of this animals. If there was a will, there was a way. I didn't want him to see any more neglect.

"In that case, reception will have you fill out a few forms. You're over 18, right?" She gazed at both of us suspiciously. I nodded obediently, gripping my wallet and thanking the lord that Mr. Rosso hadn't noticed us grab our fake ID's back from the bar a couple weeks ago. It was terrible living without them.

Reception put me through loads and loads of paperwork – all of which Daniel was more than happy to help me fill out, and it wasn't until they gave me a leash, a collar and my own actual dog that they asked me what I wanted to name him for the city's animal registry. Once again, I looked to my friend for support.

"How 'bout 'Boomer'?" Daniel suggested. "I mean, he barks pretty damn loud."

"Yeah, Boomer. I like that." I felt a grin spread over my face and agreed, patting the dog in between the ears while the receptionist handed me the final papers. "I wonder what his name was before."

I stuffed the registry into my bag and exited out of the building with my new beautiful dog in tow. It would be awhile before he was adjusted to my lifestyle – which I felt partially guilty for introducing him into – but I was going to make sure to give him as much love as humanly possible. In fact, as soon as Daniel pulled up into his home, the first thing I did was take his leash off and spray him down with a hose. Boomer seemed to enjoy it, barking happily and even spraying me when he decided it was time to dry off. I vaguely remembered the location of a meat shop around the corner, so while Daniel was showering I took Boomer to the shop to see if we could negotiate with them for food. They eventually took sympathy on my money-less situation and agreed to donate their scraps to his cause. It turned out Boomer was already hungry; he was twice my size leaning up on the display cases to try and reach the meat inside.

I soon discovered that walking Boomer would be no problem; he seemed to remember that it was I who had brought him to the veterinarian and out of his misery, so he followed me around with absolutely no problem. Getting him to sit, on the other hand, was a totally different story.

* * *

"Daniel! Daniel, you come back here – I need you to run to the drugstore and pick up your father's prescriptions!" Daniel's mother called to him from the doorway, putting her coat above her head to shelter her from the morning rain. Boomer and I were already loaded in the car and ready to go; I had been staying at Daniel's house a lot mainly because Kim and I's were totally off the list, Ken and Nick's father hated everybody and Lindsay never wanted anyone in a mile vicinity of her place.

"I can't ma – I gotta go to music!" Daniel whined, pulling on his jacket.

"You know I can't leave him alone – he might fall!"

"Well why don't you call Joey?" Daniel motioned to the house where his brother was sure to be found sleeping. "He's not workin'."

"Oh yeah – trust your brother with those painkillers? Never again." There was a scoff from Mrs. Desario.

"Alright, fine – I'll go afterschool! But I gotta go – I can't be late…I can't get any more tardies!" Daniel began to open the driver's seat of his car.

"I cannot wait; your father's in pain – I need you to do this now!" She pushed.

"Whaddya want me to do? I'm in high school." Boomer's black eyes looked back and forth between them like a ball was passing through each of their mouths. His panting was soothing; it reminded me that everything was going to be okay as long as I remembered to breath.

"Oh, when it's convenient for you, you are! You're 18 – you're gonna be the oldest junior in Michigan!" Mrs. Desario shot back, and I winced. That hit a nerve.

"What do you want me to do? You want me to drop out? I can bring us home a big whoppin' 250 an hour."

"You know I wouldn't turn that down." Mrs. Desario muttered, burying herself further in her coat but not giving up. "Hey, come on Daniel – what am I supposed to do here?"

"Whaddya mean 'what're you supposed to do?'" Daniel quoted angrily, finally opening the car door. "You're supposed to go inside and take care of him – I'm supposed to go to school. It's called Wednesday."

Daniel's mother sighed. All of their arguments – although not as violent as some of the ones I had witnessed and experienced in my time – were a lot about hypothetical situations. Daniel and his mother always agreed on what they _should _be doing; you know, what should have happened and what would be normal for them. But in the end they always ended up doing something that was abnormal and warped. It was sad, seeing people have the correct answer in front of them and not use it because they didn't have the time, or the resources, and therefore had to resort to a much harder path.

"Where're ya goin'?" Mrs. Desario sounded deflated, like a popped balloon you found behind your couch three weeks after a party.

"I'm gonna get the stupid pills." Daniel grumbled, clambering into the truck. He revved the engine with another angry snort, and then we were off towards the pharmacy.

In situations like these there were some things that I knew I just had to say, but I just wasn't sure what time to say them. If I said something at the wrong time, it was always very probable that someone would get slapped, but if I said something at the right time it could help calm the perspective friend down.

"I'm sorry, Daniel."

My friend shook his head, one hand going to hid head to smooth his beanie down with stress while the other stayed firmly gripping the steering wheel. His knuckles were turning white from either anger or concentration – I could never tell. "I didn't wanna go to music anyway." His voice was rough, thick and laced with an emotion that I couldn't decipher.

Boomer barked once, and then lay down in the back seat. I was drawing a blank on where I was supposed to leave him while I half-assed my courses, but I decided to deal with that problem once it arrived.

There wasn't another word shared between us as we arrived at the pharmacy, paid for the prescription, ordered another one and drove back home with the capsule. Daniel handed the prescription to his mother at the door without a peep, ignoring her calls of thanks and instead choosing to back out of the driveway as quickly as his Orange Trans Am could go. We made it to school at the end of the lunch hour, and I thanked the skies that this meant I wouldn't have to be eating today. Perhaps I could sneak Boomer some water. There was a tap on the patio that no one ever used, anyway.

"You gonna go to class?" Daniel questioned as we got out of the car, Boomer trailing behind obediently.

"Eh," I shrugged. "I have math and French – I don't think so."

"Why'd you come, then?" Daniel made a face.

"I wanted to get Boomer acquainted with everyone." I patted my buddy on the head.

"Alright," Daniel checked the hallway heading towards the patio from both directions. "Coast is clear. Don't let that dog get taken away – you hear me?"

"Aye aye, cap'n!" I mockingly saluted him and made my way towards the patio, where friendly faces and the familiar scent of smoke greeted me.

"Who's this, Welsh?" Stoker grinned at Boomer, who was already being caressed by several different people at once. "New friend?"

I nodded happily, watching Boomer enjoy himself while people took turns letting him sniff their hand. It was good for him to get to know the patio; since the teacher's never came out here or near this area and a couple of my friends were always out here, I could always head to class for just enough time to make sure that I wasn't marked late or absent, and then return to my beloved Boomer at the end of the period. He had been used to peeing in corners anyhow, so no one was bothered when his designated piss corner happened to be the furthest away from the entrance area. If he really decided he needed to take a shit, he could hop the fence and poop in peace.

"Yeah, we'll all take care of 'im!" Stoker agreed to my proposed plan, rousing a cheer from the rest of kids on the patio. "He'll be the patio dog; Boomer the patio dog."

At the end of the day everyone else dropped by, and before Kim and Lindsay reported to detention, they decorated Boomer's collar with hearts and designs, adding his name to the plain white that I had been intending to replace. It was nice – all of us taking care of one thing. Even if it took everybody, this dog was going to get a good life.

* * *

Daniel and Kim were broken up, again.

It was a vicious cycle and I wanted nothing to do with it, so when Daniel rebounded and decided to venture off to some punk rock concert with Ken and Nick, I hung back and asked Lindsay if I could stay with her the night. She responded quite positively, to my surprise, but I had a sneaking suspicion that it was because I currently wasn't sporting any signs of domestic abuse on my face.

"Come on over around 5:00. My folks are out tonight." She had told me this morning, grinning. "Boomer is more than welcome."

As it turned out, Boomer was more welcome than anyone else in the house that night. Mr. Weir and Mrs. Weir loved dogs, so they made sure that Boomer was well attended to while they were gone and I was doing my business in Lindsay's room. Lindsay, as it also turned out, had decided to go to the Schweiber's party with her family. I didn't want to intrude on their gala event, so I reassured them that I was more than happy to stay home, 'finish my homework' and 'rest'. Instead I stayed up all-night, smoking out of Lindsay's window, using the phone and enjoying frozen leftovers from the fridge. I had meant to relocate to the couch, but by the time my eyes started to droop around three AM and Boomer hopped up next to me, I couldn't find the energy inside of me to move.


	17. Chapter 16 - Smooching and Mooching

**'****Smooching and Mooching'**

**(/katherine_welsh_16/set?id=126183438)**

**A/N: I want to thank GoatEatingToilet for all of his wonderful reviews and helpful tips, as well as helping me edit the last couple chapters! Check out his story, 'Deviating From The Norm'! It's amazing and he's a very talented writer! **

I was still unsure about leaving Boomer out on the patio for the whole lunch hour, but Kim managed to drag me inside to eat something so I wouldn't collapse of organ failure. In her words, I was so thin you could 'feed me to a freaking paper shredder'. Because of this ridiculous (and not very rational) accusation, I was forced to attend lunch in the cafeteria with no nicotine in my system. Placed in front of me was the usual disgusting scene of soggy meatloaf and slightly burnt fries, along with some sort of unidentifiable vegetables at the side.

"Does anybody wanna give me a neck rub?" Nick groaned, slouched in his chair and holding a bowl of unfinished yogurt in his hand.

"Ew," A good portion of our group recoiled from him. "Nick, I can't believe you actually spent the night on Daniel's floor. His carpet is like, infested!"

I nodded in agreement, busying myself with doodling hairy penises all over Kim's pencil case. It was true; sometimes in the middle of the night I heard the strangest noises from across the room. At first, because of my paranoia, I believed it to be ghosts. But when Daniel notified me of the potential family of larvae living in the corner, I swore to never sleep on the floor again. Bugs didn't gross me out as long as they didn't come in contact with my skin.

"Better than sleepin' in my Maverick," Nick pulled a face and scoffed, looking tired. "kinda."

"You gonna go home tonight?" Lindsay questioned, fingering her beverage nervously. Now that she had become more acquainted with Nick, she understood the restrictions that one needed to put in place when holding a conversation with the burnout. Sometimes you could say anything – and most of the time Nick wouldn't understand anything. But at other times you had to be very careful and tread on eggshells, otherwise the slightest word could unbalance his day and send him into a fury.

"No." Nick's answer was firm, and he sat up a bit straighter at the mention of his household. "Not as long as that fascist is there. Hey Ken, could I stay at your house tonight, man?"

Ken raised his eyebrows slowly, pretending to think about it. "No – my dad; he'll have a conniption fit if -"

"Thanks man." Nick's tone was sarcastic.

"Y'know, he doesn't even let my grandma stay over?" Ken tried to justify. "He's got issues. Mostly because when Katherine stayed over Rick decided to break down our front door to get to her."

"I'd invite you over again, Nick – but you blew it!" Daniel licked his fingers clean. "You gotta remember to flush the toilet! My mom almost had a heart attack this morning. I oughtta punch you. Jesus, at least Kathy brings some dang flowers in my room – you just leave shit everywhere, literally. That's why she gets to stay."

Ken laughed while Kim retched silently, listening to Nick beg Daniel to shut up and not complain about plunging his fecal matter. Lindsay looked the slightest bit creeped out as Nick tried to assure her that Daniel was 'only joking'.

"Definitely don't wanna stay at your place, or Katherine's."

"Dude," I scoffed. "_I'm _not even stayed at my place."

"Yeah," he agreed with a laugh. "No."

Finally, desperate for a couch to call home that night, Nick turned to good 'ol Lindsay. She had been known to house us before, but perhaps Nick wasn't aware that a girl taking in her ex-boyfriend for a night wasn't exactly a recipe for a positive step in an otherwise ruined relationship. Despite these boundaries, he somewhat crossed the thin line and asked to sleep at her house for the night. We all turned to Lindsay, curious to see her answer.

"God, Nick – if it were up to me – sure, but…c'mon, my dad? He's way worse than Ken's dad!" She lied, and both Kim and I turned our heads away from her.

There were two lies contained in Lindsay's statement about why Nick couldn't stay over. The first lie was that her dad would have any sort of problem with her friends staying over. Sure, part of my temporary hospitable visit had been influenced by Boomer, but Nick wouldn't have any problem pretending to _not _be high for a couple of minutes while he innocently requested for a couch to sleep on for a night, right? And the second lie – Lindsay's declaration of how her father was 'way' worse than Kens – was a complete and utter fabrication. In terms of neat freaks or somewhat normal, dignified fathers, Mr. Weir was average. Mr. Miller was on a completely different level. He had 4 modes; neat freak, narc, loving husband and dirty lying rat. So far, I had seen him going strong on his neat freak and loving husband, but had also witnessed the unfortunate dirty lying rat. It was quite a sight

"Yeah, nah." Nick continued to eat his vanilla yogurt, pretending to be unfazed. "No problem."

Lindsay and I shared a glance. I didn't say anything – I understood how she didn't want Nicholas staying at her place after what had happened with them a couple months ago. It still felt awful to be lying to Nick about what her household might think of him crashing at their place. Then again, Mr. Weir wouldn't be so understanding of exactly _why_ Nick had kicked himself out of his own house. A drum set wasn't your usual reason to go house hopping – I of all people knew.

"Nice try though, Nick." Ken teased, lightening the mood.

Nick glared at his friend. "Shut up, man."

"What you shoulda done is you shoulda pretended to cry. You woulda been in if you pretended to cry."

"He's right," I smiled slyly and forced myself to swallow a fry, but only because the attention was on me now that I had spoken again. "It works like a charm."

* * *

"Boomer! C'mere boy!" Daniel beckoned my giant dog from his spot on a picnic table towards us. The canine happily obeyed, wagging his tail and bumping into me affectionately. He had grown even more comfortable with our circle of friends, getting used to the bathroom situation and knowing where he had to go to get water or food. As long as I kept him away from processed things, there was a smaller chance of his stomach flipping again. His middle aged-ness also helped in that retrospect.

We snuck out of the back entrance to the school into the parking lot, where Kim and Lindsay were waiting in her Gremlin, and Ken was already sitting on the hood of the Trans Am. I joined my two girlfriends in the car, Boomer instead choosing to hop up on the hood with Daniel. Ken patted my dog's head, and I smiled at the comfort of knowing how safe my animal was with my family. He must have felt nice being accepted – he was almost like an honorary freak dog.

"Did he try to give you a back rub?" Kim questioned to Lindsay. They already seemed to have started their own conversation, so I just tuned in and lit up.

"No."

"Well," Kim sighed, leaning back in her seat. "He will. And if he tries to give you a foot massage, run. We don't need another Alan."

I snorted, remembering just how creepy some of our friends could get. The idea and levels of 'personal space' sometimes didn't apply to our circle of acquaintances, which was concerning because half of them were single and the other half were mentally unstable. Now that I thought of it, many of us seemed to be teetering just off the edge. The Freaks had always come from broken homes – or had some sort of significant issues in their life that affected them day-to-day. Lindsay had broken that norm a long time ago, and proved that you didn't have to come from a difficult home or life environment to feel the pressures of society and social status.

"Kim – what am I gonna do?" Lindsay whined. "It's just too weird having him in my house."

"You could kick him out?" I offered halfheartedly, scratching the back of my head. I, for one, had no issue with booting someone out of the house if they got too pushy or creepy, hell – _I'd _been kicked out of places for being too pushy or creepy. Lindsay, on the other hand, felt sympathy for Nick and didn't want to turn him away even when he was being his usual strange self. _Anyone _who let Nick in their homes was taking a risk; their fridge was in grave danger for a number of hours until he left the locality.

"No – I can't do that." Lindsay bit her lip and looked down at her lap. I tossed out my finished cigarette stump.

"Well then," Kim stuck her foot out the window, relaxing a bit. "You're in for a long night."

I lit another cancer stick.

* * *

It was a day later around five o'clock, and I had just taken Boomer out for a nice long walk. He was in the mood for dinner, so we trotted off to the back of the meat shop where fresh scraps were plentiful. I selected a couple of lean pieces for him watched him finish his meal. I loved taking care of him – it made me proud when people petted him on the forehead and complimented his obedience or size or well-being. I never told anyone how I found him, because I figured if Boomer were a human being, he wouldn't have wanted to remember his lowest points and how someone had abandoned him, leaving him to die in pain. Sometimes I even believed that Boomer really understood me; I had always talked to myself a lot, but now someone (or something) was actually there to listen. I was starting to acknowledge the power of acknowledgement. As it turned out, a lot of people just needed to be listened to.

When Boomer finished his meal, he led the way back to Daniel's home and let himself right in. I could tell Daniel was home because Zeppelin was playing out loud on the turntable. Fetching myself a glass of water and Boomer a dog treat – something I had recently shoplifted from the variety store – I headed towards the sound of the music. Breaching the door, I discovered something I never thought I'd see in a million years – it was Daniel, and he was actually trying to finish his homework. Boomer wasn't helping; he had clambered on top of my friend's lap and was promptly licking his face happily. Daniel didn't seem to mind; he shoved the papers aside and wrapped Boomer in a hug.

"Who's a good boy?" Boomer 'whoofed' once, licked twice, and wagged his tail three times.

"Katherine? Daniel?"

"In here," I called, traveling towards the sound of Kim's voice. "What's up?"

"Hey," She grinned, holding her jacket in one hand. "Guess who's getting' laid tonight!"

"Oh boy," I rolled my eyes and groaned, earning a laugh from Kim. "Alright – I'm goin' over to Nicks."

Nick had moved back in with his father, opening up some options as to where I was going to stay the night. I tried not to think about how this was how I spent my life; house hopping, failing school and rescuing animals from the streets. Only one thing in that equation was positive, and it wasn't going to get me anywhere besides on the 'good Samaritans' list. And to be completely honest, that wasn't my main achievement at the moment.

I grabbed Boomer's leash from Daniel's dresser (in case Boomer decided to make a run from Nick's father – it wasn't a completely idiotic notion…Nick's father made a lot of people run from his house) and bid my friends farewell, exiting the house just in time to hear Kim squeal as Daniel tackled her onto the bed. I quickened my pace, rolling my eyes again and beckoning Boomer to follow. He needed no further encouragement, and barked as he ran ahead.

We arrived at Nick's house around six, and by that time I knew his parents were having dinner with him upstairs, most likely chewing the poor boy out for something that he wasn't responsible for. So I quietly crept around to the back of the house and used the key under the flowerpot to unlock the door leading into the basement. Nick didn't mind any of his friends crashing in his basement; he understood the appealing aspect and comfortable atmosphere of the place completely. I supposed that was why he spent so much time down here. On several occasions I had persisted that he started charging rent, but he refused on the simple fact that he didn't want to become a hotel.

Venturing over to the familiar cupboard where I remembered my belongings to be, I grabbed an oversized t-shirt and my toothbrush to get ready for a well-deserved rest. It had been a long day. In fact, come to think of it, sleeping more was a change I needed to make in my life. It was easy to underestimate the amount of sleep one needed. A good solid eight hours was hard to get with my levels of anxiety – even with Boomer warming my side. Speaking of Boomer, I poked my head around in the cupboard to see if I could find any memorabilia of Nick's for him to chew on. He liked things that squeaked, and since I didn't have any money to buy him a fancy chew toy, I had settled on stealing junk from anyone that I came across. I didn't see how it hurt anyone, and it made a very cute animal very happy for couple of days.

"You want something to eat?" Nick's voice came out of nowhere, and I snapped my head up, bumping it in the process.

"Son of a…" I winced, muttering in anger and holding the growing lump on my head. "No, I'm fine, Nick. Thanks."

"You sure?" Nick raised a brow, pulling off his own clothing to change into something more comfortable. "I didn't see you eat at lunch."

"I don't like lunch."

"You don't like any meal." Nick snorted. "Come on. I'll make popcorn."

"I'll make you a deal." I settled, strutting over to the cupboard and pulling out a bag of kernels. "I'll eat this with you if you roll me a fat one and we watch 'The Empire Strikes Back'."

"Deal!" Nick grinned, knowing fully well that there was no downside in this negotiation. With the large TV planted in the basement and plenty of Mary Jane, it was a win-win situation. Perhaps if we got high enough, I could even get away with either throwing up or not eating the popcorn at all.

* * *

The next morning was slow.

Nick and I hadn't gone to bed until around three in the morning (hypocritically ignoring my speech about the proper amount of sleep a regular human being should get each night) and although we had enjoyed ourselves thoroughly going through movie after movie, the effects of our barely-there-sleep schedule were starting to take effect. It was already nine, and I was struggling to make breakfast while Nick got ready and distracted his father. It was nice to have a little quaint kitchen in the basement – it was like a downstairs apartment that nobody really noticed.

The only thing I knew how to make was scrambled eggs, so I took the egg whites and yolks to dump in the pan, heating it and wetting the bottom with oil so that the pieces wouldn't stick. My mother had taught me the recipe back when she didn't spend the majority of her time completely tanked. With a bit of salt, pepper and vegetables, the eggs made a nutritious, low calorie, quick meal for breakfast, lunch or dinner. Nick and I gobbled down our meal and then headed to school, leaving Boomer at Daniel's house for the day with a fresh pile of meat and a bone to chew on. Daniel's mother didn't mind – she had actually grown accustomed to the Newfoundlander and his ways. Nick and I arrived at school just in time for second period, and headed off to our perspective classrooms with big grins. It helped for moral support.

Unfortunately, moral support wasn't going to help me for what would come next. I had science, which meant I was basically going to be reminded about how much of an idiot I was for 75 more minutes. One could only take so many hours of being recognized for their stupidity until they broke. It was common sense. So when the teacher called on me and asked for me to describe sensory receptors in the human body, I gave him a blank stare.

"Are you sure you don't have any idea what these are?" The teacher frowned at me. To be honest, I hadn't even bothered to learn his name. As long as I was taking the course and the proper work was being given to me, I didn't care if the freaking Pope was teaching the class.

"Yeah, I don't know." I sighed, covering half of my face with a hand. It wasn't that I was embarrassed – I had already passed that point with my failures in life. It was just that people asked me questions that they knew I didn't know the answers too. That hurt; it was cruel of them to take advantage of me in an educational environment like this one.

"You've been in this course for how long?" Some of the student's laughed at the teacher's words and demeanor, and I looked behind me at the faces. Among them, Daniel was sitting at the back slightly shaking his head. I had a feeling that he would be telling me they weren't worth listening to.

"Uh -" I returned my attention to the front and tried to answer the question.

"You don't even know the answer to that!" The teacher exploded, really getting angry. "Jesus, don't you study?! Don't you care?! I'm trying to help you! I'm trying to teach you something and you don't even look at the homework! You don't even try! It's pathetic!"

It was like hearing my parents. This teacher – this facilitator of this measly classroom with uninterested and inattentive students in an even drearier school with even more dullness and stupidity – was a carbon copy of my parents. He was insulting me, humiliating me, as well as wringing me out and hanging me out to dry in front of everyone. He didn't care – he had given up on me a long time ago. I could tell because he checked everyone's homework but mine, and he didn't say a word to me in class. Perhaps today he had had a bad day, because he had called on me after a long time of silence and then had proceeded to chew me out.

I began to cry, my brain not understanding how to process the situation. Sometimes I reached a mental block, where too many thoughts and scenarios entered my head at once and my frontal lobe didn't know what to do with my limbs. It was a very large funk that only my friends could get me out of, and I needed full support throughout the entire ordeal. A panic attack would have also been an excellent describing word for this sort of reaction.

"Oh for the love of –" The teacher raised a hand to his forehead, glaring at me whimpering and sobbing at my table. "Daniel?"

"Yes, Mr. Fischer?" Daniel's tone was cold, and several students, including myself, turned their heads in his direction. Daniel was already standing, seemingly ready to go with his hands in his pockets and a furious look on his face. He reminded me of a hardened criminal when his eyes got dark like that – it was a facial expression of someone who had seen too much for his age.

"Uh," Mr. Fischer cleared his through uncomfortably, noticing the change in Daniel's attitude towards him. "I think you know what to do best."

Daniel didn't say a word, traveling over to where I was sitting and coaxing me out of my seat, wrapping a hand around me and pulling me out of the classroom with a final scowl towards Mr. Fischer. Once we breached the hallway, Daniel handed me off to a nearby Ken, giving him instruction to send me home. I was still sobbing when I exited through the back of the academic institution, cursing my science teacher with every name under the sun. Despite Daniel and Ken's explicit instructions to go directly home, I veered towards the direction of my house, intent on raiding my parent's alcohol cabinet. I vomited on the road there, and then once again when I reached my destination. I didn't know where the heck my stomach found the food to throw up.

I grabbed a large bottle of Jameson, a halfway full imported Tanqueray and three 50mg tiny bottles of Vodka. Daniel had coca cola at home, so I would be just fine for a night of mixing at home alone. So, with the promise of a large hangover on the horizon, I cleared the tears from my face, stuffed the alcohol in my large bag and ventured back to Daniel's house.

* * *

I was utterly, absolutely, without a doubt, completely trashed.

There was nothing left besides a quarter of the Jameson, and the results of my messy drink mixing were spread everywhere. I didn't notice all this until after Daniel woke me up, claiming that I had nearly given him a heart attack by passing out on his bathroom floor. The fuzzy rug – most likely infested with the same insects that were inhabiting his bedroom – was simply too appealing for me to get up off of, so I lay there whimpering like a pathetic (just like Mr. Fischer had noted I was) dog.

Speaking of dogs, Boomer had taken to licking my face while I rolled around in my horrendous pit of nausea, making volatile noises and eventually, retching everywhere. Most of it managed to make it in the porcelain bowl, but Daniel had to come in and support my head while I tried to make it through my state of insensibility. It was like my neck had become rubber, and couldn't support the bowling ball weight of my head. Gradually, I gained more and more consciousness, and was aware of Boomer licking my leg and Daniel shaving in the mirror. I assumed from his activities that he granted me fit to vomit on my own, which I did several times. A small beep from his dresser revealed the time to be around four in the morning.

"Y'know Welsh," Daniel began to speak, finishing shaving off the last strip of hair on his lower face. "I learned somethin' about booze."

I burped loudly, causing the toilet to echo the belch into my face. I winced at the smell. "An' what's that?" I didn't believe that the alcohol had completely left my bloodstream yet, even though I'd already peed four times.

"Well, if somethin' bad happens, you drink to forget, right?" Daniel asked, turning on the tap and washing his face off.

"Uh huh." I agreed, spitting into my vomit sitting at the bottom of the ceramic bowl. .

"An if somethin' good happens, you drink to celebrate." This wasn't a question - it was a fact.

I rolled my eyes; he was trying to get metaphorical again. "Yeah, okay – so?"

"Well eventually, when nothing happens…you're just gonna drink to make somethin' happen. Don't'cha think?"

I didn't say anything, looking up at my friend who had take a very dominant stance above me; arms crossed like a disapproving parent that had come home to find a very heavily intoxicated daughter. I always recognized that Daniel had become a sort of brother-like figure in my life, and this was just going to be another brick to fortify the potency of our relationship. Even if I felt like he was mad at me; even if I was mad at him or if we were yelling at each other, nothing we could do would ever break that bond.

As Daniel left the bathroom, Boomer turned his head from his spot on the floor to lick my leg. I smiled, something that was rare to see on my face. This was how I knew keeping Boomer had been a good idea. He made me happy on days where I felt like the weight of the world was on my shoulders.


End file.
